


Infinite Pink

by Valdarian



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Violence, Disturbing Themes, Do-Over, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Enemies, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Irken Empire (Invader Zim), M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Prazr - Freeform, RaZR - Freeform, Redemption, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, mature themes, pazr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valdarian/pseuds/Valdarian
Summary: Zim’s trial was a victory for Irken society, their biggest thorn finally defeated for good. Zim’s soul reflects on his life and actions from the great beyond. However, he gets a second chance at life. But, it won’t be easy as he tries to contend with the rigid Irken society and balance his own dreams of a simple life. Will he avoid another bad end? What of the others that seem to hold secrets of their own?WARNING/DISCLAIMER:This fic is intended for a mature audience and will be covering some traumatic topics that could be triggering. Please be advised!
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple/Zim, Almighty Tallest Red/Zim, The Almighty Tallest/Zim, tallest - Relationship
Comments: 44
Kudos: 137





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS/DISCLAIMER: Major Character death is temporary and only used in prologue. 
> 
> Please read with caution.   
> This fic is likely to make some uncomfortable or potentially be triggering.  
> It is intended for mature audiences, as it will be exploring dark and mature themes and situations. Such as violence, implied/attempted sexual assault or abuse. Non-con/dub-con warnings apply. I will try not to go into too much graphical details, however be warned it will be at the very least implied or referenced.  
> The events in this story are entirely fictional and merely done for dramatic effect. However, they are not intended to poke fun or downplay the real-life seriousness of these issues in anyway. 
> 
> I always try to include additional warnings in my author notes before each chapter. 
> 
> Please be advised.
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> WARNINGS OVER.
> 
> NOTES:  
> Prazr is supposed to be slow burn endgame pairing.
> 
> It’s been years since I’ve wrote a proper story, so please don’t mind the writing if it’s a bit weird in some places. I’ve had this plot stuck in my head for about a year. Inspired by my obsessed with reincarnation/do-over manga and fics.
> 
> Zim gets to start over/sent back in time. 
> 
> If others want to use this as a base for their own story or art, that’s fine. Just tag me, I’d love to see what you do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover art: https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/643477875611271168/cover-art-for-my-invader-zim-fanfic-infinite

Floating in a dark abyss, surrounded by a feeling of a bygone age.

Only his own body visible as far as the eye could see. He was bare as the day he was born, not even a Pak attached.

Any Irken caught like this would be ridiculed for such degeneracy. Yet, he could not muster much shame. Only hugging his knees to his chest as he floated endlessly though the nothingness.

He had nothing to show the passage of time. Only a half remembered feeling of what it was to be alive. Left alone in the void with only his own thoughts and distant memories as company.

How long had he been here? Minutes? cycles? Eons?

Was this what death truly felt like?  
All alone and tormented by his life on replay.

He had been angry at first. Enraged at the thoughts of his trial and execution. Wondering what had went wrong. He hadn't done anything to deserve this!

The pain of Pak removal was one of the few things still fresh in his mind.

He cursed the hoomans and their filthy planet, the dib-beast for always interfering in his plans.

He raged for what must have been ages. Screaming into the void.

Going through a long list of others to blame for his fate. Just about anyone and everyone he could remember. No matter how insignificant they had played a role in his life.

Until he finally ended up on The Almighty Tallest and the Empire.

He stopped for but a moment.

What traitorous thoughts! The propaganda and teachings of the Empire still deeply ingrained in his mind.

But the more he though about them, the more his rage burned brighter.

How they used him! How they abused him!

THEY had made him into what he was. He had only been doing what any Irken soldier would've done. Right? They were taught to love destruction. How could he ever be the one in the wrong?

Was not it the Tallest who sent him to Urth in the first place.

No! His body shook in anger. 

No, no. The truth was that they had sent him into the deep recess of space, hoping he would die.

He had turned a blind eye to all their misdeeds against him. Clinging to their smeethood friendship and long buried feelings that he swore they shared but could not speak of.

Sure he might have had a teeny tiny bad habit of warping his less than desirable memories into better ones.

But he was absolutely sure they had been friends once, close ones. Very close as they aged. Even completing their elite training and working for many cycles together with no problems. 

Well, that is before they had grown to tall to be seen with a smaller.  
Even after cycles of his misadventures and their barely disguised contempt. He still hoped that in the back of their minds, that they still cared about him...even if only a little. 

That one day they would help him with all of this. He had always felt so much calmer with them, more in control of himself. 

He always convinced himself it was merely their duties that kept them from him. That they hadn't willingly abandoned him for something greater. For something that didn't include him.

That they hadn't been the ones to order his execution.

A part of him still tried to make excuses for them. Not wanting to accept the truth.

They were ultimately the same as him. Obviously. Only doing what the empire wanted. What the control brains wanted.

Successfully distracted, his hatred burned brightly onto the control brains. The machines who claimed to control everything. If they were truly such omnipotent beings, then surely they had to have known his Pak was defective. They dictated everything about Irken lives after all, from what they wore to who they could be. Even an Irken traits and personality might not truly be of their own design.

Then why was only he to blame!

Were not THEY the ones that programed him this way!

If he had been such a threat to the empire, if his Pak had so many errors, then why didn't they fix it!

Why had he been the only one to be punished!

If he was so broken, then why couldn't they have just fixed him!

…and just like that, the flame was snuffed out. He was quiet for maybe minutes, maybe hours or maybe even days. Dwelling on that one thought.

Only then did he finally blame himself. A deep well of shame quickly bubbling within his chest.

Over Two hundred cycles, years devoted to serving the Armada. Bowing to the strict rules of the Empire and whims of his Tallest. Placing his loyalty to Irk above all else. 

Repressing his natural self. All the emotions he so desperately tried to reject and bury beneath a cold exterior. Isolating himself from others. Forever trying to hid his perceived weaknesses.

It all amounted to what exactly?

He was defective.  
A mistake.  
A problem to be remedied and swept under a rug to be forgotten.

He was only capable of needlessly destroying everything in his path, even himself.

Trying to be something he wasn't.

While Silently pleading, hoping beyond hope someone would give him the attention...the love that he so desired. His peers would recognize him and appreciate him.

Irk was sure to celebrate his death for cycles to come.

It's not that he hadn't tried to control his urges. He had tried, he really did. To be the perfect soldier, to be the prime Irken example.

But at his core, that not who he was. Despite how much he tried to make himself be so.

Luck was as much his friend as it was his enemy.  
In a society were one was not to step out of line, not to break any mold, to do only what they were told.  
Someone like him, could only double down. Hoping that maybe this time something will go right. If only he kept trying it wouldn't be considered failure. Something would have to work eventually, right? He hadn't been kicked out of the collective yet. So that meant their was still hope, right?

In the end it only made everything worse.

Chaos incarnate many called him. The name Zim was synonymous with destruction and failure.  
He had no glory, no honor.  
He was a devil to his own people, an omen of their death.

If he could go back, would things be different?  
Could he make different choices, even if it deemed him defective? Got him exiled?  
Even if his loyalty came into question?

Would he even be capable of such a thing?

If only he didn't do the things he did.  
If only he tried a little hard to control himself. If only he could live his life how he had truly wanted.  
If only he could start over. If only...

Magenta eyes closed. He buried his face into his knees. Lamenting his fate. Truly this couldn't have been a more fitting punishment for someone as despicable as him.


	2. A Slow start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary for Chapter 1: Zim finds himself in yet another cycle of self doubt and torment....or is he? A familiar face appears.

He thought it was just another nightmare at first. His crimes being played out once again before his eyes.

The day he was born, the start of a tragic fate being put into motion.

Horrible. Painful. Overload. Day. Plunging Irk into five years of terrible darkness.

One of many events that would cement him into the worst of Irken history.

Zim knows he has no control here. He is in a daze and seems only capable of mimicking his past actions. Just like last time and the time before that, and the time before that, and....

He feels helpless. There was so few things he feared more than that.

A quick sting floods the world into focus. The dim lights and neon faces of unhatched smeets, yet again greet him. The feeling of cold metal against his skin as his body instinctually seeks out the robotic arm that gave him life. A part of him doesn't want to let go of one of the few things that still bring him comfort.

He wished this dream would just end here.

It never does.

How many times had he been here?

How many times had he repeated the same motions? Said the same words? Suffered the same fate?

Yet, for some reason...everything this time seemed so... He couldn't place the feeling he had. It lingered just out of reach.

The robotic arm eventually starts to shakes him off as usual. He has no choice but to reluctantly let go.

The room is heated. He still feels a chill pass through him.

He blinks into the dim room. His PAK feels heavy. A distant whisper swirls around his mind, but he cannot hear the words.

A familiar chute eventually picks him up. It deposited him into another room for information download.

He always hated this part.

Wires descend from the ceiling and attach to his PAK.

The trial flashed in his mind.

There is no desire to fight it anymore, used to replaying this scene endlessly. Knowing it won't make a difference.

He can only brace himself for the incoming information. Tense but calm, an occasional twitch leaves him as he waits for it to finish.

The information flashes before his eyes. Zim cannot help the bitter disappointment that courses through him as familiar errors once again appear before him.

"UPLOAD COMPLETE! You have been given a name. IDENTIFY YOURSELF." An electronic voice booms.

In the past he had thrown a fit over what he had seen as too little information. Did they think so little of him? Did they not know who he was! He was...?...He was ZIM!

And those 40 shmillion mistakes! Even at as a newly born smeet he had scoffed at the idea. Fools!

How dare they mock someone destined for greatness with such disrespect!

There was nothing wrong with him. Surely Zim deserved to be treated with the utmost respect and reverence. He could handle anything, he was sure of it.

This time however, he cannot find his words. His throat suddenly feels tight.

Something is off. He doesn't move.

Zim feels nothing and everything all at once. He is both a specter and player. His body feels strange and familiar, as if he is someone else entirely or maybe someone else was him.

He hadn't realized how tightly he had been gripping his chair.

He suddenly notices his surroundings in great detail. The softness of his seat. The low beat of his cardiac-spooch reverberates in his unseen ears. The quite heave of his chest as he lets out a shaky breath. He shivers, a breeze from a nearby vent finding his bare skin.

Blinking a few times. He can't help but let out a gasp of shock when his head obeys his commands. He slowly takes a look around the metallic room.

Surely he must be losing it. Just a dying imagination playing tricks.

The room is the same as it ever was. Same as it had always been in both the past and his memories.

Wires and tubes hanging from the ceiling were not out of place. Smooth magenta walls with scant lighting and various data screens were not unusual. 

So why?

He wants to laugh or cry. Maybe both or something else entirely. He doesn't know which.

A small part of him dared hoped. Maybe his prayers had been answered. He tries to squash that feeling. This would all crumble away before he knows it.

Perhaps annoyed by his lack of response or merely trying to continue its work. Robotic hands push him from his chair.

He stumbles slightly before righting himself. He can feel his legs. He wiggles his toes. 

"Could this really be real?" The words leave Zim in the barest of whispers. A smile of delight works its way onto his face. 

He hears a noise that quickly destroys it. The smeetery chute rattles as it brings a new Irken to the information room.

The chute quickly drops the new smeet into the vacant seat. A familiar little purple eyed Irken, far smaller than he. The same one he had once so foolishly accused and violently shoved back into the delivery chute. Actions that resulted in once of the most devastating power outages Irk had ever faced.

He stand as still as statue. Staring in silence. He can feel his cardiac-spooch beating rapidly. His lungs feel tight and he has to force himself to take deep breaths. 

Zim feels something from inside pulling at him to do something. Whispering this and that. His PAK? It wants him to do something, anything! He pushes it down with all his might. Deathly afraid to move even an inch.

Soon the other smeet's own information finishes. They quickly hoping out the chair for the next one to take their place.

So caught up in his own thoughts he misses the other smeet stating their name. Zim is only brought back to reality when the other moves closer to him.

Violet eyes meet his.

He begins questioning his sanity again. This could not be real! Surely he must be reaching his true end. His mind ran wild with the possibilities.

This must be a simulation.

The universe must be playing one last joke on him.

His mind was finally losing itself to insanity. Zim had thought he had crossed that road already, but it seems it could be pushed even further. 

"umm...h-hello?" The other greets him nervously.

He snaps back to reality. 

He gasps. Shock, Panic, elation. He can't place a finger on it. It all feels too much.

An awkward silence follows the longer he doesn't respond. The other smeet folds into themselves.

_A sign of weakness._

His PAK is delighted at the possibilities.

Smaller Irken, especially the docile ones were usually taken advantaged of by tallers. Often forced into the worst drone services, bullied, and everything in-between. Sometimes it seemed as if they weren't even seen as real Irken. His stomach churns at the thought.

"Hello, my name Zim and yours?" He manages to finally say. The words feeling foreign as if someone else was speaking through him.

The other's face lights up with excitement. "Sizz-Lorr!" They chirped happily, a large grin shines brightly on their face.

Oh, dear IRK! He suddenly feels very ill. Absolutely sure that his skin must have turned several shades of grey. 

Maybe it's a different one? Yeah, Irk had a one name policy for every Irken ever born and all their consecutive clones. Resulting in some rather unusual and unique names to be made, BUT...maybe the control brains had made a mistake? There could be two Sizz-Lorr...

Zim swallows back the bile building in his throat. He focuses in on the other smeet. Trying to identify anything that would set the smeet apart from the terrifying Irken of his past.

A smeet with a scar over their eye. The quiet taller from another squadron who always gave him the meanest stink eye. The frylord that loved causing him pain.

Sizz-Lorr's face is bare here. Purple eyes ringed in black are unblemished. He tilts his head at Zim, trying not to meet his eye. A fear of tallers already ingrained in him.

Zim wants to slap himself. For void's sake! No wonder the other Irken had hated his guts with such ferocity. He couldn't be surprised, now that he knew why the other had gladly volunteered for his drone punishment. He mentally kicks himself, groaning in the process. Oh, Zim you absolute fool! 

Sizz-Lorr is becoming increasingly nervous. Black antennae fold against his head. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, not at all. Don't worry! I won't hurt you!" Zim says perhaps a bit to quickly. Grabbing the other tightly without realizing it. Faces too close, he can see his own panicked reflection in the other’s eyes. He quickly lets go, putting distance between them. Trying to regain his composure, he hopes he can muster up some of his past courage.

Before the other can respond. Robotic arms are ushering both him and the other smeet towards a door. His body follows without complaint. 

His mind is a raging storm of thought. He is beyond happy. A second chance! He can barely contain the bubble of excitement welling within him over his prospective new life.

Another part keeps thinking, is this just another way to torment him? To give him hope, only to crush it? Is someone playing one last vicious prank. Maybe he was still on Judgementia, apart of a simulation and would wake to the mocking stares and jeering laughs of his people.

_This was a dream, only a dream._

It had to be a dream...

_But, it felt so real._

It had to be fake...

_But, it smelled and sounded so real._

It just had to be an illusion...

_He feels so alive._

**Yet, his death had felt far too real.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Red or Purple yet. Soon. Cute baby Sizz-Lorr makes an appearance. Seems they knew each other longer than Zim ever cared to remember.


	3. The World keeps spinning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim try's to adjust to his second life. You take the good with the bad.

_(Time skip #1: Age 8-12 range)_

_One cycle passes, then another and another._

_Sometimes he's still not sure if he should believe his luck._

_Most of his fear and paranoia had been calmed as the years passed. Though a lingering feeling that this was all in his head, never quite left him. Still, he believed he had been offered a second chance. Someone or something out there had allowed him to try again._

_A part of him wonders if this is the work of some ancient Irken god. Had they taken pity on him? He hadn't thought much of them before. Forgotten by time and repressed by the control brains. Regardless, he whispers a prayer of thanks. It gives him something to cling to. The idea someone was listening to his hopes and dreams. That they believed in him enough to give him this chance to do better._

_At the very least, it made him feel better than the alternative._

_Irk is here. He is here._

_The cycles are sometimes hard to keep track of. His mind can barely keep up._

_So used to his life in the abyss. A bleak expanse of a timeless landscape._

_In the past it had been agonizing for him to do anything slowly._

_Well, at least outside of his manic episodes of obsessive planning._

_Since he had been a smeet in his past life, Zim had always been a fast paced Irken. Always a race, impatience and a short tempered did not allow much else._

_He feels older now, tempered by his time in the void or perhaps just weary of making the same mistakes._

_It's not always easy though, a never ending struggle with his PAK. Forty schmillion errors were nothing to scoff at. He sometimes wonders how he was ever able to function at all._

_His PAK has it's own ideas. It still wants the glory, the attention, the destruction._

_They are one in the same, but so vastly different._

_It is everything he is._

_They are both Zim._

_Yet, he is not everything it is._

_It doesn't remember what he does. It doesn't understand what it's action would bring. An endless battle within, to contain himself. It's exhausting._

_Having a second brain was as much a gift as it was a curse. He knows he can't continue on like this. From the start he knew this would be his biggest hurdle. He can't simply take it off since he does need it to live after all._

_But he has to fix it!_

_Zim was sure he would overcome it._

**He has no choice, if he wants to survive.**

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(Time skip #1: still within Age 8-12 range. Zimmy's still a little obsessed with height. )_

Sizz-Lorr had always scared him. He's not afraid to admit that, to himself anyway. 

Although he's not entirely sure what version is more...how should he say...

He almost...well...maybe...okay not really wishes, that the imposing Irken with a permanent scowl was the one he was dealing. Not this younger, smaller version that reminds him a little to much of...keef at times. He feels a shiver pass through him.

It's just too weird.

Sizz-Lorr is still smaller than Zim for Irk's sake! Sure Zim had been a tall smeet, but it was still unthinkable that even after so many cycles, this future frylord was still so tiny! He must have had one void of a growth spurt later down the line.

Zim knows that the other will definitely be among the taller Irken eventually. Still, he can see now why he never made the connection between the two in the past. It would have been unfathomable.

To think this small smeet will eventually grow up to be as nearly as tall as the tallest!

At least Voel and Theron(1) had always been large, even as smeets; but Sizz-Lorr!? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. It couldn't be purely genetics...could it? What was the other eating? 

"How perplexing" Zim mumbled, tapping a finger to his lips. A small part of him was still obsessed with height or maybe it was just his PAK's influence. He knows it would make his life smoother for sure. His goals would definitely be easier to obtain.

Zim already promised himself, whether this was truly a real world or not; that he'll live a good life this time. There is a legitimate fear that once his small height was finally realized, that he'll wind up being demoting to something like a table drone or a fast food drone again. Never again. He clenches his fist at the silent promise.

He's determined to do what ever it takes, to live the best life he can this time around. Minus a boat load of destruction and devastation of course.

The weirdest thing about the violet eyed Irken though, was his strange; well, strange to Zim anyway, habits. The other had practically been glued to his side since they entered the educational facility. Sizz-Lorr always seemed glad to see him, always excited to show him something, wasn't afraid to run to Zim when other smeets were to rough. Maybe it was just because Zim had been the tallest smeet in their particular smeeterie. Maybe he was simply seen as a leader. All he knew was that it was odd having the other always on his tail, looking up at him like he was...

It was just too strange.

To think this shy, impressionable smeet would grow up into a hulking frylord! 

The smaller Irken was so bright and cheerful too.

It was a sobering thought. Just one decision, one mistake could shaped an entire Irken’s personality. He wondered just how many lives had he poisoned. How many dreams had he destroyed. He sends a silent apology to Tak.

He wondered if this is how the other was supposed to be. If the Sizz-Lorr of his past was entirely a product of Zim’s own actions. The magenta eyed Irken knew what hate, rage and revenge could do to someone. How it could corrupt and twist even the best of intentions.

Sizz-Lorr pats his arm, pointing to the spectacle around them. Irken's for all their rigidity did know how to celebrate. He gives the smaller Irken a smile.

His other hand grips the edge of his tunic tightly. An old habit he's never quite let go of. He try's to compose himself, feeling wetness building behind his eyes. At least it was less lonely then what he remembered from his past life. Maybe because the other reminded him a bit of Skoodge at that age as well.

Zim deflated. He didn't know how much he actually missed his more robust friend until then. Skoodge and those two had been born in a different smeetery than Sizz-Lorr and him.

Irk had many hatcheries. You couldn't be too careful when the survival of an entire race rested on your shoulders after all. The newly hatched smeets would be taught their general education with their smeetmates for a few cycles. Until the day they were ready for their next step as Irken soldiers. Once their bodies were deemed fit for the physical demands of military training. They would begin their true educations.

Now it was time for the smeeteries to meet today. He already feels nauseous.

Zim makes a promise to himself. One of many he hopes he can keep this time. 

He'll make sure to treat Skoodge right. He still couldn't help the overwhelming guilt bubble within him at how he had once treated, perhaps his only true friend in his past life.

A mechanical voice interrupts his musings. A control brain within the facility calls out names, ushering the various young Irken to different classrooms. 

He scowls at it.

While officially, all young Irken would be considered equal in the classroom at this stage.

He knows better now. 

Irken's were already being separated based upon their height. Their paths were being decided before their very eyes and they didn't even know it yet. Unless they had a significant growth spurt like Sizz-Lorr apparently or just didn't grow much further like Skoodge and him had.

For most Irken, their entire life was already set in stone by this age. Very few would change ranks from here on out. If they did, it was typically downwards.

As Irken got older they would be further separated as the importance of ones height became the defining factor for well...everything. Groups ever getting smaller as they moved up the hierarchy.

Thankfully they were all still young. Most would not hit any major growth spurts for a few more cycles, or at the very least any lack of growth wouldn't become apparent yet. It was still an even playing field for the majority. For now, they would only have to worry about their educations as they got to know their new classmates and eventual squad-mates. 

They would finish up their basics before moving onto more important things.

How to work Irken electronics and machinery, how to manage their monies, What is a pyramid scheme, and how to avoid one?, Where to get snacks, etc. 

As well as the general customs of Irken society or rather, to be more precise, the strict guidelines the control brains enforced on them. Smaller Irken were also required to pay particular attention to the height hierarchy.

He scoffed.

From there, they would be officially entered into the Irken military for further education. Weapon handling, military and other battle tactics, and combat simulations. 

Then they would start their specialization for potential careers. Engineering, piloting, medicine, etc.

While Height would still play the biggest role here. It was still any Irken's last chance to prove themselves. Those that excelled would be allowed to enter elite training to which they could then apply to be invaders. 

The ultimate soldiers of the Irken military.

That was the theory.

He knows many smaller Irken's had showed promise, but he cannot recall ever seeing any shorter Irken pass elite training besides Skoodge and himself. 

Most were at least Tak's height or taller.

He's pretty sure he knows why. A false hope that can be crushed. Who would want upstarts from the rabble after all. 

They had been the exceptions not the norm. 

While he had often let his jealousy get the better of him; He had also always known Skoodge was extremely capable. His friend had been the first to conquer his planet. Blorch of all planet too! He felt proud of his friend and prayed Skoodge would have a successful career this time too.

Sometimes though, he wonders if they had been merely promoted as a joke. Perhaps no one had expected them to go far. 

He knows that Tallest Miyuki had at least thought to control his destructive tendencies at one point. 

A lot of good that had done her. He mentally kick his past self. Such a fool he had been!

He feels guilty. While another part of him loved it. His PAK was beyond enamored with destruction, even if it results in the death of a Tallest.

A laugh escapes him, he slaps a hand to his mouth. Horrified by the surge of emotions his PAK is sending his way. It is delighted by the prospects of chaos. What an absolute menace!

Sizz-Lorr is called and reluctantly leaves his side. The violet eyed smeet would still have some cycles before he was considered tall enough to transfer. At least from what he remembered. Which admittedly wasn't the clearest when others were concerned. Especially those that his past self had considered unworthy of his attention. What foolish thinking.

He guiltily sees Sizz-Lorr off with a smile. 

While he's glad they are off to better terms in this life. Zim is still not sure he could deal with having to see a former enemy everyday for the entirety of his educational life. Far too many cycles already. However, he still silently wishes the future frylord the best.

He breaths a sigh of relief after the other is gone.

A few more names are called. 

He feels something akin to terror setting in. Sure that he is puncturing holes in his seat from gripping it so hard. 

He already know what class he'll be in.

One of the tallest smeets that would turn out to be one of the smallest Irken. 

He could laugh at the irony.

Sometimes he can’t help but wonder if there had been anything that he could have done different. 

Was it his diet? Not enough sleep? Had he been exposed to something that stunted his growth? Was it that time he went to Irk's surface as a smeet? Was he just destined to be this small for the rest of his life? 

He doesn't know. His PAK might. A part of him doesn't care. He just wants to live his life with as little conflict as possible. In only a few cycles, he should be considered short enough to be demoted to one of the smaller classes anyway. Zim's sure of it. Just a little while longer till graduation. It seem equally too far away and too close for his comfort. Then they'll be considered adults, freedom at last! He's not sure he can hold out that long.

Zim has done his best so far. He feels the worse is still to come.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(A small flashback)_

_When he had first been placed in his new (old) classroom, he had all but flung himself at Skoodge on first sight. Barely able to contain his happiness at seeing his past friend. It had been overwhelming, for once in a good way. He felt a weight lift off him and hadn't cared if he had been drawing attention. Skoodge had been confused, yet glad to have a "new" friend so quickly. They had been partners ever since, just like in the past. However, Zim made sure to do his best to respect the future invader this time. Instead of treating him like just another lackey._

_However, his happiness was douse not long after. Voel and Theron were the last ones to walk into the room. Chatting about something excitingly. He knew this was going to happen. Was he strong enough to face them was another question entirely._

_Their instructor follows soon after and calls for the smeets to find seats. Like a Kalzinia Hawk he doesn't take his eyes off them. He feels ready to bolt at a moments notice. Red and purple meet pink. His body turn to ice with terror._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(Timeskip #2: Age 16-19 range)_

It's hard to look at them. Garnet and Amethyst eyes, each above a charming smile.

They're still smeets here, although by hooman terms they'd be...what was the hooman word called again? Weens, theens, teens? Regardless, it should be easy to interact with them. They were still on equal footing right now.

**It doesn't make it easier at all.**

Too many memories swirl around his mind. Some good, too many that are bad. He's worried that he'll fall again.

_In more ways than one._

_Everything still feels too familiar and strange. A swirl of unheard whispers seem to follow him everywhere he goes. Something pushes at his thoughts, right below his conscience._

_His PAK continues to be a nuisance. He thinks he's gotten better at controlling it at least._

He looks up from his project at the sound of laughter. A group of taller are loudly chatting in a corner of the study hall. Voel and Theron are among them. He ducks his head back down.

His class is considered one of the tallest. Most of the other classes are filled with smallers. The smaller educations focused mostly on drone work, obeying their taller brethren and learning only the barest combat abilities. The taller education on the other hand covered far more topics and placed more emphasis on combat prowess.

While he is thankful for his education. Zim can't find much other reason to be happy about this. He supposes a part of him deep down is, but he thinks maybe that's just more of his PAK's thoughts.

All he really feels is trepidation. He knows he's walking on egg shells. An active minefield the longer he is here. Zim's been doing his best so far not to run amok. No monsters that would eat his fellow classmates. No explosives that would blow up his entire platoon. Even knowing what to avoid doing, he's still afraid of making even a single wrong move. Figuring if he does, everything will come crashing down.

_Not that it really matters. He's sure he'll be transferred out soon anyway. Zim's pretty sure he's finally reached the same height as he had been in the past._

More laughter, one of the Irken has jumped up onto a table to tell his tale.

He's drawn back into a past memory. A smeet who had loudly asserted himself, jumping atop a table. Drawing the attention of all in the room.

Proclaiming that he ZIM would be the next Tallest and that they would do best to just bow before him now. While some of the other smeet had admired him. Others he had simply inspired ire.

He facepalms as he blushes a deep blue from the embarrassing memory. 

**How shameless he had been!**

Skoodge looks at him quizzically. He waves him off. Bringing his focus back to their shared assignment, quietly helping to fix a mistake.

Zim swears he feels eyes on him, he glances around to no avail. A small huff leaves him.

_It was just your imagination. Don't jump to conclusions, Zim!_

He returns to helping Skoodge.

Skoodge has been a comfort these past few cycles. Zim knows they will be transferred out soon. Most of the others in the class had already gotten their growth spurts, the gap was ever widening. Their lack of growth was sure to be noticed any-day here. They'd be lucky if they lasted until the next winter solstice or even Tallest Miyuki's celebration day.

It was hard to place when exactly. They had originally spent most of the next few cycles under labor punishment, due to his action on horrible painful overload day II.

_Not again! He promises._

Zim doesn't know what will happen this time around. They might be separated. He really doesn't want to even think about it. Zim's not sure what he'll do without Skoodge by his side.

_He doesn't know what will happen if he's left alone with_ **them.**

He doesn't try to strike up conversation, speaks only when spoken to. Their conversations are brief. If they could even be called that. They barely share a word or two at most. It's like his body seizes when they're in front of him. His throat tightens and he can't find the words.

Zim therefore could only come to the conclusion that it would just be better if he avoids them entirely. It wasn't the best coping mechanism...However, he figures if he pretended they didn't exist, it would be that much easier to ignore them. After all, hadn't they done the same to him?

Entire cycles spent dodging them and their attempts to communicate.

Soon enough they seem to get the memo.

He thinks that if he just keeps his head down. If he just stays focused on his work. Graduation will come soon enough.

_Still he wonders; Voel, Theron, and him had once been close friends. They had shared snacks, joked, played and would hardly ever be seen apart._

_Even after he had been kicked out for his part in Horrible Painful Overload Day II. They had still been friends. It took a few cycles to earn Skoodge and his places back into the program. One of the few times in his past he had been earnest in his punishments and earning forgiveness._

_Even, despite him being demoted to one of the shorter platoons by the time of his return. They had welcomed him back as if he had never left. So many cycles spent learning and training together. Working his fingers to the bone to earn a spot as an elite. In order to be next to them. It was a miracle that they had even been assigned to the same squad. It had been a dream come true. How many missions had they completed together? How much moments had they shared?_

_For a time their friendship had been good. Great even!_

_He's not sure where it all went wrong, but he's sure that he had to do something with it._

_Somewhere along the way it had all started to go down hill. He hadn't noticed at all. It still seems so sudden or maybe he had just been that oblivious._

_All he knows is that in the end, he was left alone with a promise unfulfilled._

_Maybe they finally got tired of his destructive habits. Maybe they just couldn't pretend to like the smaller Irken that never seemed to grow anymore. Too embarrassed to be seen with a smaller. When it was obvious they were going to be next in line for the almighty tallest._

_Tallest Miyuki had even taken them under her wing. He should've known. The level of adoration in their eyes, had been one he had seen too many time in the mirror._

_He hadn't seen them much after that. Eventually he didn't see them at all. Calls and texts, once so numerous. All ignored without explanation._

**It had hurt.**

_The next time he'd seen them, many cycles later. It had been during the enthronement of Irk's newest Tallest. He almost hadn't recognized them at first glance._

_Garbed in intricate matching robes of their personal colors and sporting new names. They were the tallest Irken's he had ever seen. yet, he knew those faces. The crinkle of Theron's eyes when he laughed or that lopsided smirk Voel often sported. He knew in his core who they were._

_Garnet and Amethyst had swept over him without a second thought. Any communication was waved off. They had completely ignored him. He was beneath them. It felt like they saw him as a stranger, just one of the many drones under their command. He meant nothing to them. ___

__**It had broken something inside him.** _ _

___Whatever it was that held back what little sanity he had left, had been snapped. His desperation was quick to grown out of control. Clamoring for even the tiniest bit of recognition. No matter if good or bad._ _ _

____

That's why he promises himself to not be bought in by their stupid...handsome...no good...charming idiot faces!

He's determined to make his life easy this time. Maybe get a research job far from the chaos. As much as he hated Urth’s wildlife, he still enjoyed learning about it. He’s sure that there are other flora and fauna equally as interesting.

Vort was a beautiful planet. It had been turned into a military research prison after Tallest Miyuki's death in the past. Destroying much of it's natural landscape. However, without Tallest Miyuki's death at the hands of his energy blob; which he had no intentions of creating this time around. Irk had no reason to conquer the planet. 

Vortian's were smart and had good standing with Irken. They were Irk's oldest allies. Maybe he might even meet up with Sven(2). They had been...friends at one time and he did owe the Vortian a lot.

Vort, yes Vort sounded incredibly good.

Therefore the magenta eyed Irken try's his best to keep from bringing attention to himself.

Even if they become tallest he thinks, he'll be just another background character. He can go on living his life and everybody theirs. So he try's not to pay attention to them.

He puts his all into his education. Avoiding unnecessary fights as much as possible. Knowing most Irken liked to use physical combat as methods of measuring ones abilities. Definitely more than that of knowledge at least, brutes. Although he supposed that's just how they were taught. Irken's were meant to love violence. They wouldn't be world conquering forces otherwise. Zim figures if he doesn't threaten their precious schoolyard status, they might just ignore him.

Zim believes it's better this way. 

Let's just stay strangers, he thinks. 

It's for the best he convinces himself.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(Timeskip #2: Still within Age 16-19 range. Testing Field Three)_

Another day out on an underground field.

Their instructor begins to hand out visors. Going over military tactics again. 

The same simulations every time, he knows them like the back of his hand. He also know how easily he grows bored of them. They are too simple. For once he can say so unbashful. 

His obsessive planning in the past did serve a purpose. It’s was just too bad he had been so easily distracted by nonsense.

Perhaps because of this boredom he feels particularly antsy today. Something feels off but he can’t place it.

He can't let his guard down. He feels eyes on him, but he doesn't know from who or where. He discreetly glances around.

Suddenly everything seems to click into place. 

An open field during tactic training, a bored Irken. Skoodge to his Left. Ano(2) to his right, Navi to his front. Voel and Theron somewhere behind him to his right. Larb out sick with food poisoning.

Horrible painful overload day II. His eyes widen as his body goes rigid.

Zim had been going through this new life like a wisp in the wind. Biding his time, focused solely on graduation and getting far away. This did not mean Zim had ignored his misdeeds however. He done everything he could to avoid his previous foolishness. Though he always knew, some would find him whether he liked it or not.

He can't stop himself from still questioning it. It couldn't be? Had he really been here that long? He knew he'd be confronted with this eventually.

Yet, why does he still feel so blindsided by it. This should be one of the easiest ones to avoid. All this waiting for the next tragedy and he still finds himself unprepared. He doesn't know why. A part of him is still afraid of this life turning to smoke, that if he reaches to far, if he makes even one mistake; it will fade before his eyes. That he would wake either to jeering peers or endless darkness. 

Zim's been waiting for this. Yet, he's still not ready. He knows he can win, he just has to do nothing at all. For some reason he is still frightened. Maybe fate will find a way to screw him over, the first time was just a free pass. Its all he can think.

His PAK notices his weakness and he finds himself silently battling it to maintain control. Their both bored and it wants excitement. Zim's not willing to take the chance.

He feels queasy.

The Instructor has noticed his lack of attention and starts to question him. He doesn't have the words. His tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth.

He can't focus. His vision is turning fuzzy. All his attention is on trying to keep his PAK under control. The verbal onslaught does nothing but add fuel to the fire.

The instructor's face has morphed into something else. Zim can’t be sure. His body trembles.

Everything suddenly sounds too loud and he can’t see straight.

It’s all too much.

**It hurts.**

He pukes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1)- I've seen these names used in a couple of other fanfictions as The Tallest's actual names. I know it's confirmed that their real names are purple/red but I just really like these ones. A match made in hell is a good fic and I think (Don't quote me on this) is where these names originate.  
> Voel- Tallest Red  
> Theron- Tallest Purple
> 
> Ano- Announcer and Navi- Navigator, for the life of me I couldn’t find out if they had fan names already. If you think of something else for them, let me know. I might use that instead.
> 
> Sven: Vortian Prisoner 777  
> \----------------------------------  
> Lore: Tallest have many traditions.
> 
> (Canon) One is the cutting off of their thumbs to symbolize that they can support the empire with only two fingers.
> 
> (Personal canon) Another is that Irken rulers practice regnal/reign naming conventions: They take a new name when they ascend to the almighty position. A way to symbolize that they are entirely dedicated to the empire. They cast off their old names and identities. They do not exist as anything more than the Almighty tallest. Leaders of the armada, parents of the Empire.  
> Spork died too soon before his new name was chosen.  
> Miyuki's was Yuki.  
> Red and Purple panicked and got stuck with colors or just couldn't be bothered to come up with anything else.
> 
> Horrible painful overload day II: In the Trial, I think they were pretty young. However, to get this story moving a bit faster and not have too many time jumps. I decided to raise their ages a bit.
> 
> Zim’s having a tough time. There are still doubts but he’s trying to move forward. Too bad life is moving at him faster than he anticipated.


	4. Mirage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the past. Nothing is ever what it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): This chapter will feature violence/fighting. I tried to keep it from being too graphical but be advised.  
> A more action packed chapter. Couldn't get this out of my head. I really wanted to explore a bit of the Almighty Tallest after Zim's trial as well as a look in their shared past. (Also my attempt at action.)  
> A reminder Voel=Tallest Red, Theron=Tallest Purple. More notes at bottom.

(First Timeline: Somewhere in a distant past.)

"You've really done it this time Zim!" Theron admonished, ducking a laser aimed at his head as he ran.

"I've done it? How was this Zim's fault? My plan was flawless! This was clearly you're fault!" The magenta eyed Irken yelled. Stopping to point an accusing finger at the taller elite.

"Would you both shut up! We don't have time for this!" Voel shouted, throwing the smaller Irken over his shoulder as he passed. Theron followed closely after, hoisting his sniper rifle closer.

They dodged a few more lasers. Racing through the remote streets of some shady black-market planet. Followed closely by a group of Glozikian mercenaries(1). 

It wasn't that unusual for other aliens to take advantage of the Empire's underbelly. Refugees from conquered planets and limited resources seemed to facilitate all kinds of dastardly dealings. Groups of various mercenaries and mafia gangs popping up left and right. 

All vying for power, influence or monies. 

Typically they'd be left to their own devices. Recently however, a few had gotten a bit too bold for the Empire's liking and needed to be put back in their place. 

Their mission was supposed to be just a routine bust. Get in, take out the supply and any targets, get out. 

Send them a message about who is really in charge.

A larger and more experienced squad had been sent to another location. The veteran's were to deal the Sovoxian mafia(2) on another side of the planet. A nasty bunch that they learned practically ruled the underground here. It's also where the core of the dealings were supposed to take place.

Their squad had been sent to deal with the Glozikian's group. A new, but fast rising gang on this side of the planet. They had been causing a ruckus at some of the shipping docks. Upsetting the trade routes. They were said to be blackmailing and threatening the traders, taking much of their monies or even goods as payment for their "protection".

They had expected an overzealous, yet relatively small group to be in their location. That's what their intel had told them anyway. It'd be something new recruits could easily take care of on their own. 

Not that they had any doubts. While their track record was a...tiny bit hectic and unorthodox. They were still elites and they hadn't failed any of their missions yet. 

Maybe that was why they were always paired together. Not that he mind. A smile forming even as his lungs burned from running. 

It was exhilarating!

A laser just barely missed his antenna. 

Well, usually anyway. 

However, their intel had apparently been wrong. Very wrong.

The gang was far larger and dangerous then they had expected. Fully organized and armed to the teeth. Guarding the area as they moved an abnormally large amount of cargo. A few Sovoxian's were among them as well. It was all too suspicious to be any normal dealings. 

He was going to give intel a piece of his mind when they got back. It was probably Huk's doing, that smarmy little Irken always had it in for him! 

Normally the veteran squad would be called in to deal with this. Not a trio of fresh faced elites, but when you got three of some of the most stubborn and prideful Irken in one group...

Besides! The others were busy with the Sovoxian's on the other side of the planet and it would take too long to call for backup from Irk anyway.

It's not like they really had much of a choice, now did they. 

How could they just let something like this go? I mean, how could they even call themselves elite if they ran away now.

It would be so shameful! 

Sure they were outclassed but they weren't out yet! They've fought tougher things.

All for the glory of the Empire! 

Zim had luckily had some explosives on him. 

Sneaking around the dock they had managed to place the bombs in a few areas. Even taking out some of the guards that had been by themselves. Once they were in a safe area they set them off.

In only a few seconds the flurry of explosions had taken out a large chunk of the criminals. A nearby crane falling onto their main supply ship, rendering it unusable.

While the remnants dealt with the fallout, an argument had happened over their next step. 

Long story short, they were discovered.

It had been pure chaos from there.

A rain of lasers and smoke had quickly clouded the area.

Just when they thought they were almost finished with the enemy, a downed Glozikian had called for backup. 

Low on ammo and exhausted, they had no choice but to tactfully retreat for now. 

It wasn't fleeing!

They rounded a corner.

Voel stopped, taking aim at a Glozikian that had caught up to them.

"Excellent shot Voel!" Zim smiled, still atop his shoulder.

The red eyed Irken smirked.

"Lucky shot." Theron scoffed, taking out his own mercenary as another one rounded the corner as well. He could hear more still on the way.

They ran a bit further, ducking into a nearby alley. Coming out of it at an empty construction site. 

Perfect.

They took positions. using the next few minutes before the mercenaries caught up with them to catch their breath and reload what little ammo they still had.

"Zim, you got anything?" Voel questioned. Aiming his pistol at the alley entrance as he took point. His antenna stood tall as he focused on the nearing gang members.

"In a second." Zim responded, searching through a nearby crate of supplies the construction workers had left.

"There they are!" A Glozikian shouted. Laser fire following soon after.

One down, another, a few more shots rang out.

Theron was getting nervous, he blinked sweat from his eyes. He didn't have many rounds left. 

"Any second now Zim!" His rifle clicked, a Glozikian jumped at him. He used the frame of his gun to keep the sharp toothed alien away from his face

"Do not rush ZIM! The magenta eyed irken yelled back. A little noise of triumph soon followed from the smaller irken. 

"ZIM!"

A bottle went flying, as it hit the ground, flames enveloped a group of Glozikian. His opponent was immediately distracted by the screams of his brethren. He took the moment to push the other away and attacked it fiercely with the butt of his weapon.

Theron took a deep breath after it was done. Cardiac-spooch still beating rapidly. He heard the sound of a few more bottles breaking and saw Voel taking out any mercenaries left untouched by the flames. The red eyed Irken had picked up one of the Glozikian's weapons somewhere along the way. 

Voel meet up with him when all was quiet. They walked over to Zim.

The magenta eyed Irken held up a bottle with a cloth in it. "Vortian whisky, great for explosives". He placed it back down into a crate with a few similar bottles.

"What's the next step then?" Theron asked, a note of exhaustion in his voice. He wasn't one for physical fights like his companions. Preferring to keep his distance whenever possible. 

"There was a Sovoxian there. A big one that had left in that ugly vehicle. How could they ruin a limited edition XXXX54' model with such an atrocious paintjob!" 

"The one with all the jewels?" Voel questioned, ignoring his companion's complaints. "You think it might've been the boss?"

"Seemed like it or at least some kind of higher up. Pretty sure he was wearing a snarl beast coat." Zim explained, searching through the non charred bodies for any ammo or weapons. He threw a cartridge to Theron. 

Voel looted an extra pistol as well. The weight of the Glozikian weapon didn't compare to the red eyed Irken's favorite pistol but it probably made him feel safer.

"Bit strange to have a Sovoxian on this side of the planet though. Thought they never left the cities." Theron looked up from reloading his favorite weapon. He always felt best with it by his side.

"Wonder what they're doing here? Must be pretty important for the Sovoxian's mafia to work with the Glozikians."

"They had said something about meeting up a place called the Twisty Fosion." Zim suggested, gleefully inspecting a newly acquired shotgun.

"They'll be on guard now." Theron pointed out.

"All the more fun for us then." Zim's eye were alight with the impending doom. 

Theron couldn't help but smirk. 

He was exhausted and wanted nothing more to have a snack and cleansing wash. Yet, he had to admit a part of him thrived in this kind of chaos.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Twisted Foxian as it was actually called, was a shady nightclub on the edge of the town. Glozikian's guarded the entire area. Zim pointed out the vehicle the Sovoxian mafia boss had used. 

The Glozikian were really in cahoots with Sovoxian Mafia. Why?

Voel put his binoculars down. This was going to be tough. Word about the attack on their supply base must have gotten back to them at this point. They were sure to be on guard. A vehicle pulled into the alley below them. Glozikian's hopping out and beefing up the already tight security.

He ducked back down, using the walls of the roof to hide him as they planned their next move.

"We can't just walk in there." 

Zim shifted, he wanted nothing more to just run in there guns a blazing but even he knew they weren't in the best shape. He only had a limited number of his Molotov's and they were limited on ammo.

A backdoor opened and the Sovoxian don stepped out, flanked by bodyguards. It'd be easy to snipe him from here but they still didn't know what was going on. 

The vehicle started up and quickly sped away. 

"Should we follow?" Zim questioned.

"There's no way we'll catch up."

"Then what do we do?"

"I'll try contacting Squad Alpha." Theron was meet with the displeased looks of his partners.

"Look! We got admit this is way over our antenna! I got the feeling this is bigger than anyone realizes." He hissed.

Voel and Zim shared a look before they each nodded.

"Fine" 

Theron radioed their seniors but received no reply. His antenna flattened at the radio static. He tried a few more times. 

"Come in squad Alpha. Squad Delta requesting aid. Location coordinates xx.xxxxx-xx.xxxxx." Nothing beyond radio static came through.

He meet the nervous stares of his squamates.

"What now? Our ship is half way across the city. Might have been found, they could be looking for us." 

"We can't stay here." Voel said, taking charge. "We either make it to our ship or we see this mission through to the end." He said somberly.

"Then should we head back to the supply base? It's on the way and might hold some clues." Theron suggested.

"We don't have much of a choice."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The supply dock was quite when they arrived back at it. Only smoldering embers and the still bodies of their fallen enemies among them. The planet's sun was setting, adding to the eerie atmosphere. It didn't look like anyone else had been here. Yet.

Theron held tightly to his rifle as they swept the area. His antenna stood alert for any signs of ambush.

They searched for any clues along the way. Looking for docking logs, audio files or anything else that would help piece the puzzle together. So far, nothing.

The supply ship was in ruins. Even more than he remember it had been when they had fle- tactfully retreated. 

The crane that had fallen on it, was now a few hundred feet away atop some shipping containers. What was left of it anyway.

Had it blown up? The twisted metal looked like it had blown the ship outwards from the inside. Were they transporting something volatile? Bombs? weapons? Sovoxian's usually dealt in illegal drugs or overpriced luxury goods. This wasn't like their usual MO.

They made their way to the back of the lot. Avoiding wreckage as they entered the only building there. 

Once inside they saw a few pathways lay before them. Voel turned to his partners, making a motion to split up. They would have to if they wanted to cover more ground. Every second they spent here was increasing their risk of being discovered. They split up the last remaining Molotov's between them. Voel taking most as he decided to parole the perimeter. Zim stayed on the main floor and Theron made his way upstairs.

His cardiac-spooch thumped loudly. He willed himself to keep his breathing steady. Now wasn't the time to let his guard down. Glozikian's weren't hard to take down but in a large group they could pose a problem.

Turning into a darkened office, he was glad to see the low lights of a terminal. It didn't take long for him to crack the code on it. Who put their password as Dookie?

Theron's eyes widen as he read through it. 

They were selling weapons to the Noyings!(3) The Empire's sworn enemies, worse than even those energy stealing Meekrob!

They had killed Almighty Tallest Pink! Backstabbed the Tallest during peaceful negotiations between their empires ages ago. The first thing Almighty Tallest Miyuki had done after being enthroned was promised to avenge her fallen predecessor. Sparking a war that had gone on for hundreds of cycles. It had only ended some 200 cycles ago in a shaky truce. 

Were the Noying's getting ready for war. Were they thinking of attacking the Empire again? 

This was huge!

"Ah!" He heard Zim cry out and ran downstairs, his gun raised and ready to pull the trigger. He rounded a hallway into the main hall and nearly got his head blown off. 

A trap!

Theron pressed his back against the wall. Taking a second to calm his racing cardiac-spooch, before he chanced a peak around the corner.

There were four Glozikians, two on either side of the mafia boss, each with a gun raised in his direction. 

Zim was held in one of the large arms of the Sovoxian Don. His shotgun lay a few feet away. His PAK unusable due to the hold. 

"Well, well what do we have here?" The Sovoxian Boss said. All four of the Don's eyes looked his way in boredom. Zim struggled in the tight grip to no avail.

"By order of the Empire, you're under arrest for colluding with the Empire's enemies!" Theron announced, trying to keep his voice steady. Where in the void was Voel? He needed to buy some time. What should he do?

"Under arrest?" The Don laughed. Jewelry clinking as his body shook with the sound.

"The Empire means nothing to me. You Irken always think you're so powerful but I got news for you! The only thing that matters in this world is monies. Monies that you and your little friend here cost me!" The don said, all previous mirth wiping off his face. His grip on the small irken tightened.

"Zim is not little!" Zim glared at the oversized Sovoxian through gritted teeth. The four eyes turned to him, a grin soon spread on the mobster's face. The smaller Irken's antenna pressed flat against his head.

"Now that I look at you, aren't you a pretty one. Maybe I'll just have to take you as part of the payment you owe me." 

"Disgusting! Unhand ZIM!" The smaller Irken squirmed with new effort in the Sovoxian's hold.

"Feisty, I Like that." The mafia boss smirked, making a motion with his hand to the Glozikian's behind him. They began moving towards Theron but stopped as the building shook. Distracted by the activity.

Theron realized this may be his only chance and quickly pulled the trigger. The nearest bodyguard fell. Another tried to rush him, only to meet their comrades fate. The remaining two scrambled for cover. 

"What are you fools doing! Get him!" The Don yelled, trying to keep his footing as the building rattled again. They could hear the sound of metal and stone twist and break somewhere in the distance. 

Was the building about to collapse?

What in the void was going on?

He got a shot on one of the guard's legs. He gritted his teeth. He had a Molotov on him but the space was too confined and he might get Zim in the process.

The Don grew increasingly furious. Face turning a few shades darker as he continued to yell at his mercenaries.

Theron used the distraction again to take out another guard and then the last.

He glared at the mobster as he walked into the room fully. "Let. him. go." Rifle aimed at the Sovoxian's head.

The Don glared at him, quickly pulling out his own pistol, decorated just like himself and his transportation. He pressed it to Zim's jaw.

"Come any closer and this one gets it!"

"It's so gaudy!" Zim complained. Despite the threat to his life, the smaller Irken was not going to forgive the mobster for his horrendous decorating choices.

Theron faltered and the mobster took aim at him. He ducked just in time. 

The oversized Sovoxian quickly made a break for the exit. The elite close on his heels. A whirlwind of fury growing within the Irken.

"Guards! Guards! The Sovoxian Don yelled into the shipping yard. He was no fool and made sure to bring backup. He wasn't gonna let a few pompous Irken ruin everything he worked for. This was the biggest score of the millennium for him. 

It was just a little hiccup he told himself.

He was Donal Foxion Del Dookieton for universe sake! The most feared and powerful mafia boss on all of Glovox and soon, the galaxy! 

A laser caught his ear. He let out a yell from the pain, quickly pushing a hand to it. He ran up the last remaining wreckage separating him from where his other guards should be.

Oh! Donal was gonna make sure to capture that annoying purple eyed Irken alive and make the other beg for death!

The don smirked as he came out on top of the wreckage. Laughing to himself at the fate that was about to befall the sniper elite.

Only to find nothing was there.

Where were his guards? Where was his beautiful limited edition XXXX54' model with a custom paint job featuring his gorgeous vision!

The mobster looked around. His perch allowed him an excellent view of the damage.

"MY PRECIOUS!" His vehicle had been driven into the side of the building. 

The remains of his mercenaries' vehicle was turned over, having crashed into a gas tank. A large blast radius with what looked like the remnant of his men lay around it.

"W-What?" The Don muttered in disbelief. "How could this happen!? No, NO!" 

The Don's arm grew lax and Zim quickly squirmed out of it. The mobster quickly snapped from his stupors and attempted to recapture the Irken, but Zim would not be taken off guard again. He used his PAK legs to gain some distance from the four legged alien. 

Theron took aim.

One of the mobster's legs were pierced as a laser rang out. Sending the large alien tumbling to the ground.

The sniper gasped. He looked wildly around for the source.

"Voel!" 

The red eyed irken dropped down from atop a nearby shipping container. Looking worse for wear. He'd been busy if the state of their surroundings was anything to consider. 

Zim quickly ran to the pistol wielding Irken's side with a worried expression. Voel wiped blood from his mouth. "I'm fine." He smiled at the smaller irken.

Theron's Squeedlyspooch twisted. He turned to the mafia boss that was recovering from their fall and pointed his rifle at the mafia member's face.

"D-Don't shoot! Anything you want. Monies, power, pleasure! Let me live and it can all be yours!" The mobster bargained. 

Theron looked at him in disgust. "Why are you selling weapons to the Noyings? What do they want with them."

"I don't know." Theron pressed his rifle closer to the Don's face.

"Really! It's just business. They pay me and I send them the goods. I don't question my clients." The mobster explained, seemingly docile now that his life was on the line.

He pulled away from the Sovoxian and looked to his companions for their next step. A mistake.

Zim's face twisted in horror.

"Theron!" The warning came to late. The Don still had his pistol and had it aimed right at him.

Shit! He'd forgotten about it in the chaos and was now going to pay the price. He attempted to dodge, a scream left his throat as the laser tore through his shoulder. His rifle fell to the ground beside him.

"You can kiss your empire goodbye!" The don attempted to run. His laugh cut short as his body crumpled to the ground.

Zim's face was dark with fury as he lowered Voel's pistol. 

The two elite quickly made their way to their companion's side.

"Theron, stay with us." Zim set about tending to the wound. 

It hadn't hit any major organs but was far too close to Theron's cardiac-spooch for the smaller Irken's comfort. If had been just a few inches over...

It would heal but any injury still put them at further risk right now. 

Who knows how much longer they'd be on this planet. Who knew what or whoever else they would have to face. They were already reaching their limit. Voel looked like he would pass out at any moment and now Theron's shooting arm was down as well. 

Things weren't looking good. "We have to make it back to the ship."

"And if someone found it?"

"We have no choice. Unless you want to be stuck on this planet until the end of our days!" He shared a look with Voel. Trying to keep a brave face despite the fear he felt.

Zim prayed for some kind of miracle.

The rotation of helicopter blades could be heard in the distance. Mafia reinforcements? They wouldn't be happy that their boss was dead. 

Zim wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. "We have to get out of here now!" He helped Theron up. Voel followed a few feet behind them. Fatigue keeping the normally fast Irken at a slower pace.

They were stopped as a figure walked in front of them, a surviving Glozikian. A hand pressed to their side as they held up something in their other hand. 

"If I'm going to the void, then I'm taking you with me!"

Zim's eyes had widened, he shoved Theron behind a container just as the blast enveloped them. 

Theron came to. He could vaguely hear Voel calling their names through the ringing in his head. He coughed from pain and the dust kicked up by the blast as he struggled to sit up. 

"Z-Zim?" He called, squinting through the dust. He could barely see the smaller Irken's figure through the smoke and reached out. He grasped the other's wrist and felt Zim turn towards him.

He looked on in horror as the smoke cleared. The magenta eyed Irken had injures all over. Theron noticed one of the other's antenna was partially missing and a leg was nearly severed.

"You're okay!" The other smiled before collapsing on him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------  
(Aboard the Massive, Almighty Tallest Purple's chambers.)

Theron awoke with a start. His cardiac-spooch beating rapidly within his chest.

He fell asleep again.

These nightmares. Dreams. Memories? Had been haunting him for cycles now. Ever since... 

He doesn't want to think about that. It makes his Squeedlyspooch twist uncomfortably.

Theron knows he shouldn't. They had been justified. That Irken had been a menace to the Empire. As tallest, Voel and him were fully in their right to punish him. If anything they should have done it immediately. It was a mercy they had let him live as long as they had.

So why does he feel like a no good Blasnit every time he thinks about it.

Had the other somehow infected him with malware? Had the defect placed one of those ancient curses on him? The ones he hears so often whispered about by overly superstitious Irken. 

Theron laughs at the thought.

He feels a headache coming on. This...what ever it was, had been particularly vivid this time around. He doesn't want to go back to sleep and feels to queasy to eat. 

Anyone would surely be shocked to hear him say that.

He calls in a servant to run him a bath in the cleansing room. Maybe a good soak will help sooth him.

The purple eyed tallest closes his eyes as he lets out a sigh of relief as he relaxes into the warm water. 

The dream replays in his mind. Purple eyes open and he stares at the ceiling in contemplation. Was it really a dream?

Theron runs a clawed finger over the web like scar on his shoulder. He hadn't paid it much mind before, he hadn't remember where it had come from. Figuring that he had been an elite once. He'd obviously had fought in many battles and must have gotten it in one of them.

He couldn't remember any of them though. In fact he couldn't remember most of his youth. He'd been a medic at one point? He thinks.

The Purple Tallest try's to recall his past, brow furrowing as few things come to mind.

There were lots of things he couldn't remember. Everything felt like it had been locked away and what little he did remember was seen through a foggy haze.

It's was like someone had taken a recording of his life and cut out large chunks of it. Then sowed together the remains. Only now was he finding the missing pieces.

He could remember the pain of the laser tearing through his muscle. 

He could remember the taste of dust in his mouth.

He could remember the feeling of his cardiac-spooch beating every time Z-

Theron shook his head, trying to block out those thoughts.

The physical proof was there. 

So why had he not remember something so important. He felt possessive, a part of him clinging to these new, old? memories with all it had. The thought of loosing them made his Squeedlyspooch twist.

Was it because of what he felt? 

He wasn't defective.

Theron knows he had only been reprogramed once, when his title changed from elite to Almighty Tallest. He's sure about it...maybe. He feels unsettled. 

Why couldn't he remember? Had he deleted them himself? Had someone done this to him?

A shiver passed through him. 

Maybe Voel would know something. Theron was sure he'd go crazy otherwise.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
(Aboard the Massive, Almighty Tallest Red's chambers.)

Banging reached Voel's hearing. He buried his head further into his pillow. Hoping who ever it was would go away. They had two Tallest! Surely they could go bother Theron with what ever it was.

The banging continued. 

He scowled, hadn't he had told the servants he didn't want to be bothered today! 

Another bang. 

He sprung from the bed and reached the door in a few strides. Maybe he'd pull a Theron and throw them out the airlock. He wasn't in the mood today.

The door swished open and Theron's surprised face greeted him, fist still raised.

"No." He says flatly.

"What do you mean no? You don't even know what I was going to ask!" Theron pushes past him. A low growl builds in his throat. He really wasn't in the mood today.

"Theron, I swear if this is about changing the water fountains into nacho cheese ones aga-"

"It's not." Theron says. 

Voel's taken off guard by the serious look on the other's face.

"But that is a good idea, I forgot about that." The purple tallest throws himself onto one of the sofas in the room. Patting the seat next to him.

Voel sighs, crossing his arms. His fellow ruler looks at him expectantly. He won't give in.

"Look, I'm tired. So unless this is serious can we talk about this later? Voel notices Theron perk up.

"Dreams keeping you up?" 

The red eyed tallest feels shock course through him. "You know about them?"

"You too then! I'm not the only crazy one!" Theron says excitably.

"What do you know about them Theron!" Voel crosses the room and grabs his fellow tallest tightly. Shaking him slightly.

"Ow! Ow! Let go of me and I'll tell you!"

Voel let's go and sit across from the purple eyed Irken. 

Theron rubs his arms "Jerk." He pouts.

"Theron." Voel warns.

"Voel, do you know how I got that scar on my shoulder?"

Voel is quite for a second as if recalling something horrific, before slowly nodding.

Like a dam being broken. The words tumble from Theron's mouth as he recalls everything he remembers, all the dreams he has had and compares it to Voel's own telling's.

They are both shocked as all the information lines up.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours past, they continue to talk about the seemingly double life they've lived.

"Do you think something went wrong when we were enthroned?" Theron asks.

"I don't know. I feel like it goes further back then that though." Voel says, truthfully he is still confused about all of this and not sure what to make of it.

A thick silence grows between them. 

Voel closes his eyes in thought or maybe sleep finally claiming him again.

Voel?" Theron begins, waiting for the other Tallest to acknowledge him. He hears a soft hmm from the other.

"40 Schmillion errors, can you imagine?" Theron whispers. Zim had been a forbidden subject ever since the Invader's trial.

"It's a lot." The red eye Irken nods solemnly.

"It's a nightmare is what it is. 40 schmillion Voel! It's no wonder he was so messed up." Theron looked over to his fellow tallest. Voel meets his eyes.

"He wasn't always like that."

"I know. But, it's just...a wonder how he managed to hide it for as long as he did. I can't imagine ever being able to function like that."

"Zim made it work."

"Do you think...?" Theron stops himself. Voel looks at him questioningly.

"It just doesn't make sense." He continues. He feels cold by were certain thoughts were leading him.

"No. It doesn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are aliens that don't actually exist in IZ lore.  
> (1): Glozikian's are nomads that often take mercenary jobs. A group exist on the black-market planet Glovox. Secretly working for the Sovoxian mafia.  
> (2):Sovoxian's are four eyed and four legged natives of Glovox, many are shady creatures that enjoy nothing more than material wealth.  
> (3) Noyings are the Irken nemesis after they were implicated in the murder of Almighty Tallest Pink. (Fun fact: Irken's were originally supposed to be called this. Really glad Jhonen went with Irken.)
> 
> Also how do you feel about tallest Zim?


	5. Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim comes to after his episode on the training field. One door closes and another opens.
> 
> Also want to thank everyone who has read this story so far. Especially everyone who has commented, I might not always respond, but I love each and everyone on you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Blood and minor gore. Be advised
> 
> Artwork of Voot and Mill  
> https://emismpunk.tumblr.com/post/643603226310148096/just-a-few-of-my-oc-that-appear-in-infinite-pink

_"You don't understand!" A voice...who was it? He knows it._

_Odd._

_It sounds like..._

_Where was he?_

_It feels equal parts strange and normal all at once._

_The lights are dim in a room draped in magenta. Trophies and other oddities line shelves. Physical books even, how weird! Their binding are worn, they are well loved._

_A book he's read a thousand times stands out to him, an old Irken legend from a bygone past. A tale of a hero vanquishing a great evil threating their world. It had betrayal, intrigue and...some steamy romance. How scandalous! It was also perhaps the last remaining one in existence._

_Many Irken had long left behind the old ways._

_Always look forward, never back._

_Zim cannot help but notice this all. Everywhere he looks, a memory plays. He knows all their meanings and importance without fail. It's comes as second nature to him._

_He can feel the texture of Irken silk against his body, a flowy and light garment that hangs loosely on him. It wasn't typical Irken fashion. Yet, it feels ordinary. As if he wears it everyday._

_The smell of a incense burns away in a corner. Valdarian Rose, his favorite._

_There is a taste of Vortian whisky on his tongue. A glass sits half finished to his right, the ice is melting._

_A map of the stars lays on a console before him as he hunches over it._

_Planning?_

_That familiar voice whispers from all around him._

_Yes, planning._

_It felt alien._

_It felt like home._

_"What is there to understand! There is no reason for us to hesitate!" Another shouts._

_They sound young. He knows them. From where? It sounds equally familiar to voice in the back of his mind. Their face is a blur. The name is on the tip of his tongue._

_"Actions. Have. Consequences! Are you so willing to put the lives of your fellow Irken on the line so needlessly?"_

_"Sacrifices must be made for the good of the Empire!"_

_He can feel his fury reaching a breaking point._

_"Enough! Leave. We are done talking about this. This Empire will not be doomed for something so foolish!"_

_He sounds exhausted, like the whole weight of Irk was on his shoulders._

_The other Irken says something else, but he cannot hear them._

_The edges start to blur. His hands desperately claw out in an attempt to hold onto to the fading image._

_Wait!_

_He doesn't want to leave. There is still so much more he wants to know._

_why does everything feel so familiar. Why does he only now remember this?_

_Why DOES he remember this?_

_Who was he was arguing with?_

_Why won't this sense of dread leave him?_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
(Academy Infirmary)

Magenta eyes opened to bright lights. He let's out a soft groan as he squints, arm reaching up to shield his eyes. His head was spinning. 

Where was he? Panic starts to set in. His old paranoia never quite left him. His vision is still too fuzzy.

That...dream? He can still smell the remnants of the incense and the feeling of those soft robes. It is deeply engraved in his mind even now. Why does it feel so important? All he can think about is the feelings within...him. A whirlwind of emotions that leave him with whiplash. It felt so real.

He hears shuffling and glances over just in time to see a vague blotch or two of color escape behind the curtain of his bed. Skoodge?

His vision is clearing.

Eventually an elderly medic comes into view, quickly checking his vitals. 

Ah, the medical ward then. His cardiac spooch starts to calm.

"You've been out for awhile now. Almost thought you wouldn't wake up." She says, wrinkled face kind. 

He thinks she looks familiar. Was the older Irken in charge of the infirmary perhaps? Zim can't recall her name. 

In his previous life, he would only ever visit here for others. If he was injured, he had preferred to fix his own wounds. 

He still does.

Just like in his past, he was still weary of others seeing him in a weakened state. Pride and paranoia had always been a powerful concoction in aiding his personal survival after all. 

He knew very well, how easy it was to betray someone. Especially when they were down for the count. 

Zim wasn't too keen on taking that risk anytime soon. 

If a medic had tended to him, it had usually been Theron. Whenever he let the purple eyed Irken practice on him, during their elite years. 

Now he just let his own healing factors do all the work. His healing and regeneration had always been excellent. Only a few like Skoodge were on par with him. Maybe that's the reason they had gotten so far in their military careers.

He couldn't remember the last time he had visited an infirmary of his own volition. 

Only once had he spent a large amount of time in one. 

Glovox was still a sore spot for him, even now. The damage had done a number on him. Sure he had recovered, but he had also been rendered partial deaf and suffered a bad knee for the rest of his life as a result. The only good thing to come out of it, was that his skill with his PAK legs had increased exponentially. 

Why was he here now though? 

His memories were hazy. He try's to remember, they had been out training and then...

Tapping brings him back to focus. The medic swipes at a display. Going through his information. Her eyes squint at something in particular.

Zim suddenly feels nervous. Did she know about the errors? Would she deem him defective?

He sits up intent on asking, a wave of nausea hits him. 

"Nearly a month." Her green eyes flick over to him for a moment and then right back down to the screen. "Had to call in a PAK technician from the Capital."

Magenta eyes widen as he gasps at the revelation. 

Nearly a month! It was strange for an Irken to be unconscious for even a day. Glovox only had him out for about a week. 

Typically only the most severely injured, would be out for so long. Even then, usually only those at death's door. 

He hadn't been injured, had he? 

Had someone gotten the drop on him? Did someone remember their past life too? One of his victims? Maybe they figure they'd take him out before he could do the same to them.

Or had something else drastically changed? 

Was his healing not as good as it had been? 

Irken were supposed to be hardy creatures. 

They could take a punch and then some. Desolation and other harsh conditions were hardly a problem to a species that prided itself on their resilience. 

There was few things they needed to worry about. At least not when they had their PAKs by their sides...er...on their backs. 

Some species around the galaxy even thought they were immortal. 

He wished they were.

They could die from old age and disease. Although advancements in medicine had rendered the latter nearly obsolete. 

Much to his displeasure, he knew very well how fragile they really were. Extreme damage to their organs or if an important one was lethally hit, it could spell disaster. Especially if their regeneration didn't kick in fast enough or if medical care was not quickly administered. 

The rarest deaths were from hunger. Food and by extension sleep wasn't as needed as it might've been in Irk's past. Their PAK's were exceptional at absorbing the necessary nutrients from their regular diets, then storing it for emergency use. Resulting in the mass consumption and obsession of snacks that Irken were know for.

Unfortunately these had both been things he had forgone too often during his past life. His PAK had often seemed to forget it was still attached to a living being. 

He wasn't just a organic vehicle for it to pilot.

Parasite.

Enough damage to their PAK's could spell their end as well or at the very least damage their ability to process or survive their surroundings to their full potential.

Wait.

PAK? 

What was this about a Capital technician?

"PAK technician?" He asks, his voice is rough from disuse. 

The medic is quiet for a moment as if debating whether or not to tell him.

"What happened?" He asks desperately. Hoping she doesn't here the growing hysteria in his voice.

**They're going to kill him! They found out he defective and their going to kill him!**

"Calm down. Everything is fine. It's just, uh..." She seems nervous.

"What happened! What's going to happen to me?" Zim suddenly springs forward, he's half off the bed as he grabs the medic's coat. He must look hysterical at this point. The panic has buried itself too deep.

She pats his head, try's to calm him with a few words. He calms slightly. His cardiac-spooch is still racing like mad.

She then gently pries his hands from her coat. Once he has settled back into the bed. She checks a few of the machines that went off during his panic. 

Zim try's to remain calm, gripping his bedsheets tight. He's worried they might tear.

After what seems like far too long, she continues.

"Your PAK had some fried circuits. We're still not sure what caused it exactly. Only that it resulted in a small internal explosion. Nothing we couldn't fix!" She says quickly, seeing the horror in his face.

He glances over his shoulder. Silver metal and dull pink lights of his intact PAK lay silently against him. Tubes and wire connected to it, keeping track of both of their vitals. He shivers.

The medic takes a breath before continuing.

There was more? His antenna flatten further against his skull.

"It caused the underside of its shell to bust against your back. Sending one of your PAK legs through your ribs, hitting one of your lungs. If it had been just an inch or two over, it would have gotten your cardiac-spooch. Don't worry though, everything healed up just fine! We were able to fix it up good as new and it reattached no problem. You're a lucky one!." She try's to reassure. 

Was his PAK trying to kill him!

He feels like he's going to puke.

"What's wrong? It's okay! Everything's all right now!" The medic quickly checks him over, noticing the greying pallor of her patient.

"Nothing, it's nothing." He try's to get himself under control.

She stares at him, he finds it hard to meet her eyes.

"I suppose that was a bit shocking to hear. Especially after just waking up. It might be best for you to get some more rest then." She pushes him back down to the bed with no resistance.

"Don't worry about it too much. Everything is all right. You'll be able to return to your classes in no time." 

He nods silently. 

She closes the curtain, the med lights are dimmed not long after and he is left alone with his thoughts.

He knows he won't be sleeping at all tonight. His would be assassin lays silent beneath him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


(Testing Field, One month in the past)

Sergeant Voot. A blue eyed Irken who had been called in to teach the youth of Irk. The future of the Empire. It was a privilege.

Some days however, Voot swore his antenna were going to turn white from the stress these smeet gave him. If another smeet got the bright idea to look down the barrel of their laser rifle or jump off the top of the academy building, he swears!

Maybe it was his age getting to him. He had grown up in wartime after all. The Empire had faced many difficulties throughout his smeethood. It had just been getting back on its feet, after many cycles of over indulgence and recklessness from its previous leaders and corruption throughout.

Voot had fought in countless battles as a result. Glory and honor had been his. He had even taken part in the Holxsaurion war during his elite years. He'd been barely older than the smeets in-front of him. 

It seems like ages ago.

He remembered when Almighty Tallest Pink had taken the throne. The Irken with rare eyes. A shade of pink the color of Valdarian roses. The Pink eyed Tallest had taken no time at all to fix the mistakes of his predecessors. Ending fruitless wars. Fought against internal corruption. Creating alliances with the planet jackers and Vortian. Placing importance on research and Irken honor from times of their ancestors. Much of Irk's current infrastructure had been built during Tallest Pink's reign. A ruler that had been equal parts a valent warrior and scholar. 

Oh! How Voot regrets not being able to see the other on the battlefield. Even just once! The tales he had heard. Perhaps he should tell a few to his smeets. It might inspire them to work harder.

He had been promoted to sergeant under Almighty Tallest Pink. The tallest granted the title to him with a smile. Recognizing his achievements as an elite. It had been the happiest day of his life.

The worst had come not a few cycles later. 

The day Tallest Pink was announced dead. Murdered by their own allies. The dishonor the Noyings had done to the Empire still stuck with him. He didn't care if they were at peace right now. Voot would never forgive those cretins for killing his Tallest!

Almighty Tallest Miyuki was quickly enthroned and set about avenging their fallen leader. The Noying war had been fought for hundreds of cycles. 

He had fought long and hard. Hadn't cared if his life was at risk. For Irk, for the Empire, for Tallest Pink!

A bomb had been shot into his squad's trench. Many of his comrades had perished. He had woken a day or two later, his legs had been severely damaged in the blast and had never healed quite right. 

The Noying war had ended about a dozen cycles later at a standstill. Now they were in a shaky truce. Both sides had lost too much and if furthered at the time would have only end in their mutual destruction. 

He still hated them with a burning passion.

It felt like he lost everything to them. He hadn't redeemed his fallen leader. He lost his ability to fight, to serve his Empire. He was a warrior of Irk, an elite, an Irken recognized by Almighty Pink! He had nothing.

Drone work never appealed to him, it was beneath him! You didn't have a warrior handing out food or cleaning toilets. It was insulting. The mundane of it all, it was enough to drive harden soldiers insane.

Then Almighty Tallest Miyuki had approached him. Requested he be sent here. He'd been too happy to refuse. It felt like he had purpose again!

This was his third batch of smeets since. Some of his older ones had already become invaders. Sure they could be a real pain, but he was proud of them.

"Hey! Quit it." Two smeets are roughhousing in the back. 

His eye twitches. 

Apparently his training was too boring for them.

"Skutch! Slacks!(1)" Voot lets out a pleased noise as they quickly fall back into line. He'll have to think of a punishment for them later. Maybe have them run a few dozen laps around the academy.

He looks out over the group for any other troublemakers. 

His eyes are drawn to one of the smaller ones, Zim. 

The Irken isn't moving.

Odd.

Zim was perhaps his best behaved student. It wasn't like the smeet. 

The magenta eyed Irken was highly intelligent if not a bit docile for his taste. It was likely he was being targeted for bullying. Voot kept a tight hold on his class when it came to hazing, but he knew some of the other instructors could care less.

Although at times he swears he could see a glint of something in those magenta eyes. A spark of life and energy just waiting to explode. Sometimes he thinks the other was holding back. But that be ridiculous! No Irken in their right mind would willingly do such a thing. 

Voot wondered not for the first time if the magenta eyed Irken might be afflicted with the Greys(2). It was strange for one so young, but not entirely unheard of. 

The smaller Irken still wasn't moving. As if frozen in time. He calls out to the smeet.

"Zim!" No response.

"Zim, You will answer when a superior is talking to you." The smeet hunched forward slightly. Even from his position, Voot could see how pale the other was. Was he sick?

"Go to the infirmary if you feel unwell!"

Nothing.

His antenna flattened. He made his way towards the smaller Irken, his knees creaked in protest. 

The other smeet start breaking formation, murmuring to themselves. He'll deal with them later. 

Something doesn't feel right. 

Voot arrives in front of the magenta eyed recruit. He try's catching Zim's eyes, finding them glossy and unfocused. He try's saying something to catch Zim's attention, but the smeet responds to nothing.

The smaller Irken's body is rigid and his skin is turning increasingly grey and clammy. Voot is about to call for a medic when he hears it...

It was the most sinister sound he had ever heard.

The blue eyed Irken was used to artillery shells, laser fire, screams of his comrades and all manner of other awful noises.

It went without saying, Voot had witnessed many horrors in his day.

A small little pop. Then something like metal creaking and flesh breaking.

The smeet stumbles forward and pukes.

To Voot's horror it was blood. 

Zim collapses, unconscious. Voot catches him before he can hit the ground. His legs yell in protest and he winces from the sudden motion.

"You there! Get a medic! Quickly!" He begins ordering. Lowering them both to the floor. Voot's cardiac-spooch is racing. He's trying to stay calm. The screams of his other smeet as panic sets in barely register to him. Too disturbed by the sight of a PAK that had dislodged itself from it's Irken. 

Attached only by a shiny metal leg.

Oh dear Irk!

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


(Academy dormitories)

Eventually he's discharged with little fanfare. A few last check overs before he's deemed fit for duty again.

The elderly medic, Mill gives him a few words of encouragement as he leaves. It makes him feel warm. She reminds him of the human parental units. A far more competent one, of course.

A stern but kindly Irken. Wrinkles from overworking, line her face. Running the academy medical ward was not easy work. Especially not when smeets were constantly being sent there over the dumbest of accidents.

He feels a bit guilty, sure that he must have made her want to pull out her antenna with how many Irken he had sent to her in the past.

She stops him once more. "Now if you feel sick or anything unusual don't be afraid to come to old Mill, got it!" She pats his head with a smile. 

He nods and can't help but smile back.

The walk back to his room from the med-ward is quiet. 

It's late, most of the other Irken are either in the spare training rooms or have already turned in for the night.

His PAK is thankfully quiet as well. Although Zim's not sure if he should take comfort in that. His Squeedlyspooch feels increasingly unsettled at the thought.

Horrible Painful Overload Day II was avoided at least.

He is equal parts happy, scared and embarrassed over the matter. His classmates will likely use this incident against him. Anything that could be used as leverage over another, was good leverage.

However, right now he can't be bothered to care. A problem for the him of tomorrow. He has more pressing concerns to deal with right now.

He needs to do something about his PAK and fast. He has little doubt that the malfunction with the machine was due to their struggle. If he has another episode, it could be his last. Zim still had many trials ahead of him.

What if he winds up dead? Or his PAK takes over? Repeating history seems like an even worse fate.

Should he try scrubbing the machine of those errors? It was a lot but he thinks with some time he might be able to do it. The problem was he didn't have a lot of time right now.

He could ask the control brains to fix it...

**No.**

Those things obviously didn't care. They'd just label him defective and eliminate him. He wasn't going to let that happen. 

However...maybe he should prepare for that possibility too...it never hurt to have contingency plans.

Should he attempt to take it all apart and put it back together? Find out what was causing it. Wasn't that against the rules though? He'd surely be labeled defective if anyone found out. 

PAK technicians had to get specialty licenses and even then there was still many stipulation on what they could and couldn't do to PAKs.

Get a new one? Could he even do that? Weren't PAK's reused? 

When an Irken died, if their PAK's remained intact. It would be wiped and reprogramed for the next generation. 

Had something gone wrong with the reprograming? Could all his problems be because of that? All those errors.

Was that what that dream was about? Had his struggles with his PAK resurfaced memories from a long dead Irken. Maybe that's why it felt so real.

Should he be upset? What did he even do with this information? He wondered if others had experienced this.

Was there a way to research such a thing? Maybe he should make a trip to the hall of history, take a look into the Irken database for clues. He could look it up with his PAK. But, he didn't trust the thing to do anything other than just keep him alive at the moment. Even that he was still on the edge about.

Plus, it probably wouldn't even give him the right information anyway.

Still, it was a strange thing to even think about. That someone else's entire life lay dormant just under his. Was there others as well? How many lives had his PAK seen? Had they experienced the same thin-

"Oof" He bumps into someone as he turns a corner. Landing on the floor in a heap.

"Hey watch wher- Zim!"

He freezes. Voel and Theron stand before him, peaking around large boxes in their hands. He quickly picks himself up off the floor, brushing off imaginary dust in order to avoid looking them in the eye.

"You're really alive! That was insane. I've never seen anyth- Ow!" Theron elbows Voel in the side. The purple eyed Irken whispers something harshly to the other.

"I mean...are you okay?" Voel clears his throat, he looks embarrassed.

"Zim is fine." 

This is the most they've ever talked to one another.

"How are you Zim?" Theron asks.

A magenta eye twitches. He feels angry all of a sudden. A tidal wave of pent-up emotions start racing forward. How was he? How was he! What did they care? They weren't friends. Maybe they never really were.

He doesn't answer, trying to keep his inner rage in check. Hands clench the bottom of his tunic tightly. An awkward air settles between them. 

"Ah! Well, we have to be going. Instructor Voot has us running these weapons down to training field three for tomorrow's session." Theron says suddenly.

"Yeah, we don't want to get yelled at." Voel adds.

"Instructor Voot can yell your antenna off." He agrees. Some tension leaving him.

"You'll be at class tomorrow, right?" There is a small blush dusting the slightly taller Irken's cheeks. He looks...hopeful?

Zim nods, if only in confused at the reaction.

"We'll see you there then!"

"See you around!" 

He catches sight of a ruby eye as it passes him. Voel winks.

Zim gasps.

Did he just wink? Did Voel just wink at him!

He feels his face heat up. Dammit all to the void! Don't fall for it Zim! Remember what they did to you. Stay strong. 

He felt like an innocent Smeet with their first crush all over again. 

This had to be a trick! They were playing him for a fool. It must be their way of getting back at him for ignoring them. Those two had always hated not being the center of attention.

He buried his face into the palms of his hands, crouching down in an attempt to regain his bearings. His legs felt like jelly and his cardiac-spooch wouldn't stop racing. 

Why was everything being so difficult!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skutch and Slacks are canon invaders.  
> Being afflicted with the greys = have the blues. Due to the fact that Irken(In my au at least) when sick or depressed turn very pale. Often appearing grey in coloration.
> 
> Zim's struggling with his feelings still. Voel and Theron aren't making it any easier. Old flames die hard.
> 
> Wanted to draw some parallels between Zim and sergeant Voot.
> 
> Things are not always what they seem.


	6. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendships are magical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A non-graphical fight. Minor swearing
> 
> This had initial been a really hard chapter to write. I spent a few days just sitting in front of a blank notepad. Since it's a filler chapter before we crank this up to 11 here soon. However, once I let my indulgence come into play....Well, hopefully you guys like it too and don't find this chapter boring.

_(Academy dormitories: Skoodge pov)_

The whoosh of a door startled Skoodge awake. He rubbed at the dark circles under his eyes, squinting as the lights suddenly flicked on. 

It had been a difficult month. He looked over at a nearby clock. Who was here this late at night?

Zim walks fully into the room without hesitation. 

A gasp left the marron eyed Irken, he could barely believe his eyes. He scrubs at them in disbelief. 

"I thought you died!" Skoodge yelled, jumped from his desk. Nearly knocking a few items off it in the process. He pays them little mind.

However, he does blush in embarrassment as his own statement registered. "Ah! I d-didn't mean it lik-"

"I'm fine." 

A small frown on Zim's face as he takes in the disastrous state of their room. Skoodge was never the cleanliness Irken and without Zim to keep him in line...

But, that didn't matter right now!

"Zim! You're alive! You're really here! Are you hurt? Do you nee-" He takes a few steps closer. Wanting to reach out and see if the other was really real or if he was imagining it.

"Skoodge, I'm fine now. Really. Do I look hurt anywhere?" Zim reassured, doing a full body turn to show his well-being. Zim's skin was a healthy green and not the too pale grey Skoodge remembers seeing last. Magenta eyes shined brightly with life. Most importantly, the other's PAK was intact, pink lights softly glowing.

Skoodge couldn't contain himself any longer. Rushing forward, he pulled the thinner Irken into a tight hug. 

A small noise leaves Zim.

"I-It's just that no one knew what happen. Your PAK...there was so much blood Zim. We...I thought you were dead. I thought I lost my best friend!" He buried his face into the other's shoulder, tears starting to flow freely. He knows he's being overly emotional right now. Yet, Skoodge can't bring himself to care if Zim thought he was weak or even defective. 

He was just glad to know the other was okay.

\------------------------------------------------  
_(Zim pov)_

Shock at first. 

His immediate thought was to throw the other off. Whether due to an irrational fear of assassination or purely his hatred of touch. Only in this life had he started to open up to his desires for affection. 

At one point in the past, he had craved touch with little shame. 

In his previous life, Zim had long since come to hate physical contact. Not when nearly every incident had involved someone trying to hurt him. He had learned to push it down to the deepest part of his soul. If for no other reason, to guarantee his personal safety.

Theron and Voel had been exceptions. Well, they could at least claim to have never actually put their hands on him.

A sniffle. Skoodge trembles against him. The maroon eyed Irken is crying. Zim can feel the wetness seeping into his shoulder.

Never had he expected this response. Had never allowed himself to even dream anything like this could ever happen. 

Not to him.

Skoodge was his best friend, they had spent more time together than their past lives had ever. It had filled some of that void within his cardiac-spooch. 

Though he'd been careful as not to be too affectionate with the other. A part of him was afraid of Skoodge becoming dependent on him or merely giving into whatever whims Zim wanted, just like before.

_A secretive part of him merely felt Skoodge simply deserved someone better._

_Zim was unworthy._

It was best if they kept some distance.

Still, his friend had stuck by his side. Even during some of the worst parts of his previous life. 

Which is why he didn't want Skoodge to be a push over ever again. 

That's why, Zim went out of his way to try to install more confidence in the more robust Irken. Like encouraging the other to make more friends. Nicer friends. Skoodge seemed to have an innate ability at making them. He felt proud of that. Skoodge deserved to enjoy such popularity. 

_Even if a part of him was jealous._

However, a promise was a promise. He wasn't going to do anything to destroy that. 

The magenta eyed Irken wasn't going to hold the other back. If Skoodge could achieve so much in his past life, despite all of Zim's mishaps. 

Just think of how much the other would achieve now! 

When they inevitably went their separate ways. Zim would at least take comfort in that.

Or maybe it was all just his own selfish desires. He didn't want to fall back into the same habits that had lead to his destruction. His own selfishness in the past had claimed too much. 

So much of him still desired to have what was out of his reach.

"Skoodge?" A few more sniffles. 

A small sigh leaves him. 

_He really was selfish._

Zim pulls the other closer.

"It's okay Skoodge. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere." He gently shushes the other Irken. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_(Training Ground six: A few weeks later)_

A giant platform stood in the middle of the underground dirt field. A row of disqualified Irken sat to his right, nursing their wounds.

They were doing a free for all. Last Irken standing wins.

Well, the rest of his class was anyway.

Zim was on weapon cleaning duty...again. Instructor Voot had been keeping him from the more demanding training exercises since he had come back. 

He might feel insulted. Zim knew he defiantly would have thrown a fit in the past.

However, he supposed he could understand the older Irken's worry. Especially after seeing the incident with Zim's PAK first hand. 

Zim guessed he couldn't blame the blue eyed Irken for being weary of pushing him too far, so soon.

Although he also supposed; It helped a lot, when you didn't take every little thing personally.

Plus, it was better than being made to run laps around the academy for the schmillinth time. Or, if the envy filled eyes of his bruised and battered classmates were to be believed. Was better than getting pummeled by one another.

Even if he was getting a little antsy at this point. Like someone putting a big red button in-front of you and then telling you not to push it. He'd been deliberately avoiding fighting the best he could. However, a growing part of him desperately wanted to join in.

An injured Irken passed him as they were hauled away to the infirmary. Slacks groaning as he went by, mumbling about his attacker. Zim looked back to the field. Theron was crossing blades with Ano, one of the few Irken close to Theron and Voel in height. 

Ano managed to get the other's staff pinned under his. However, the future announcer didn't expect Theron to let go of his weapon and take a swing at him. A mean left hook hit the other taller in the jaw. Needless to say Ano went out like a light. Theron then throws the other's lance outside of the ring, too heavy to wield alongside Theron's own weapon. Best not to give others a chance to use it.

Zim winced in pity. Theron wasn't typically a hand to hand fighter but when he did. He certainly didn't hold back.

Before Theron is able to pick up his own weapon. Larb springs forward. Forcing the taller Irken to retreat into the maze of crates and walls inside the arena field. 

Larb scans the area. While he lost sight of the taller Irken. He picks up Theron's weapon with a smirk. Few others are able to stand against his duel weapon onslaught. A wicked laugh leaves the future invader.

On second thought, maybe this was the best thing to be doing right now. Any lasting shame he might have still had, was slowly being washed away.

Zim went back to cleaning. He held up the lance he'd been polishing for inspection. The artificial lights of the training ground shined brightly off it. A noise of approval left him. 

He's startled as an Irken lands next to him with a loud thump, duel weapons still clutched tightly in either hand. A groan leaving them. Zim winces at the bruised face of...Larb?. It was hard to tell with how swollen it looked.

He catches sight of Voel throwing yet another opponent out of the ring with little effort. There was now only five Irken left in the ring. 

Four. 

He watches Skoodge tossed his own opponent out of the ring too. He gives a thumbs up when he thinks he catches the other's eye. Skoodge nods, a small smile on his face. Before a more serious one takes back over.

Three.

A wide grin spreads on Voel's face as he disarms another opponent. Who wisely gives up. Voel could be pretty vicious when it came to combat. He was within the top five in their academy.

Voel was without a doubt, having the time of his life right now.

It was a wonder how such an energetic Irken wound up becoming so lazy. 

Did becoming one of the tallest really cause that level of complacency? Although perhaps having others to wait on you hand and feet would produce such a thing. 

It just seemed so odd the more he thought about it. He shook his head. It didn't matter.

Although, it was still a shame. Zim can't help but feel pity for both of the future tallest. 

Such potential, wasted. 

He's drawn back to the battle by the clanging of spears. A surprise attack on the red eyed Irken by Skoodge. 

Voel's spear goes flying outside the ring. 

Sending some of their classmates running to avoid the wayward weapon. 

It lands and thankfully no one is harmed.

Zim lets out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. 

He looks back just in time to see an expression of shock on the Voel's face. 

Skoodge looks...smug? It was an odd look for the maroon eyed Irken. Although Zim guessed his partner deserved to be happy for getting the drop on the slightly taller Irken. Voel was their class's best fighter after-all.

Not that Skoodge would be an easy opponent either. 

Unlike Theron, who liked waiting on the outskirts of a fight...Like he was now. Although he shouldn't blame the taller Irken too much, he was unarmed. Zim still side eyed the taller Irken.

Although, Zim supposed it was in Theron's nature. The purple eyed Irken was one of the types that preferred to watch a battle unfold. Until they found the right chance to strike.

Skoodge however, was more like Voel, a front line fighter. Both equally ferocious warriors when they wanted to be.

Zim perks up. He felt a bit bad for wanting to see this fight. It was his friends- er friend after-all.

Yet, to have such an opportunity! He can't help a bubble of excitement building within him. A part of him still liked a good battle.

Plus, this would be a good chance for Skoodge to show his skill.

In the past, they had been taken out of this class before anything like this could happen. And any previous battles, Skoodge had always given up when pitted against their taller classmates. 

He sees no fear or hesitation in maroon eyes today. Maybe Zim's confidence training was working.

Skoodge goes in for another swing. He catches Voel bicep as the other moves away, drawing blood. 

It wasn't a serious wound from what Zim can see. Voel still looks furious.

Empowered by the hit, the shorter Irken try's to strike again. 

Voel dodges it. Skoodge's momentum forces him forward. Voel grabs ahold of the shorter Irken as he passes and attempts to throw him from the ring. However, Skoodge is too heavy. Voel only manages to throw the other a few scant feet. 

The maroon eyed Irken quickly gets back on his feet. Shaking off his disorientation. 

Voel gets some distance between them. An unreadable expression on his face. 

Skoodge is quickly regaining himself. 

The red eyed Irken looks around for a weapon. 

There is none.

The taller Irken has an ever deepening frown. Red eyes frantically taking in their surroundings. Theron peaks up around a crate inside the arena, he still doesn't have a weapon either. Yet, he looks like he's about to help his partner. Voel seems to give him a look.

_Don't, this is my fight._

Theron nods and ducks back down. Red eyes are still scanning the arena.

Skoodge is closing the distance.

Zim swears that the other lingers on him for a moment too long. He can't help but lean forward, he grips the spear in his hands tightly. 

What was Voel going to do?

The taller had two options: Give up now or fight bare handed. Zim knew enough about the red eyed Irken to know the former was definitely not going to happen. He knew Voel's pride wouldn't allow it.

_It had been something they had both shared._

He wasn't going to fight Skoodge bare handed was he? 

Skoodge was a pretty heavy hitter. There was a reason that the short Irken had survived a planet full of slaughtering rat people after-all.

The ground breaks where Voel had been mere seconds before, Skoodge's spear in its place.

Even from his position. Zim can see sweat beading on Voel's forehead.

The taller Irken dodges another strike by Skoodge. 

Then another and another. 

Voel isn't attempting to fight back...at all, it was odd. Sure Voel had the right of being weary of getting hit by Skoodge. However, usually Voel would have attempted to do something by now.

Their both getting closer to the outskirts of the ring.

Zim can tell Skoodge is starting to get winded the longer the fight continues. A look of frustration on his partner's face as yet another swing fails to connect.

Ah! So that's Voel's plan.

Zim winces as he puts the pieces together.

Another swing, another dodge.

Voel suddenly smirks. 

Zim can only watch as Skoodge is drawn right into a trap. He wants to yell out, but thinks better of it. He bites one of his thumbs. 

Instructor Voot was fairly strict on outside help during duels. He might disqualify Skoodge if he did. Something about how as Irken warriors they needed to learn how to defend for themselves. There was not always going to be someone there to help them. Especially if they decided to become invaders in the future. 

_He had once taken this lesson too close to his cardiac-spooch._

Voel is pushed nearest to him, a scant few feet from the outside of the ring. He sees Skoodge smirk as he closes what little distance remains. 

The shorter Irken thinks he's won. 

A big mistake.

Skoodge don't fall for it!

The maroon eyed Irken makes a final swing. Voel catches the shaft of the weapon and they both struggle for control. It's a bit hard to tell for sure whose winning. He can only see a little bit beyond Voel's back.

Suddenly Skoodge looks shocked? He can just barely see his partner's expression over the taller Irken's shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion.

Skoodge seems to loosen his stance for just a second. 

It was all Voel had needed. This time there is a short enough distance for Voel to throw the shorter Irken from the ring successfully. He kicks out one of Skoodge's legs, using the falling Irken's momentum to throw him out.

Skoodge lands in the dirt with a grunt. Turning around to glare up at the taller Irken.

A round of applause from their classmates. Zim claps along with them. He'll have to make sure to buy Skoodge some of his favorite desserts later. 

Voel stands at the edge of the ring. He looks incredibly proud, a wide grin on his face. Zim's sure garnet eyes are staring right at him.

_Don't be be ridiculous, Zim!_

Voel's triumph look is cut short as he is drop kicked in the back by Theron. Sending the red eyed Irken flying out of the ring. 

Skoodge barely manages to roll out of the way as Voel lands.

"Theron!?" Voel quickly gets to his feet. Not even bothering to brush the dirt off of him. He looks like he's ready to wring Theron's neck as he makes his way back towards the other.

"Don't let you're guard down!" Theron calls out playfully, unaware or simply not caring about the danger he was in.

Instructor Voot cuts in.

"Alright that's enough! Theron wins! Now get out of here and clean yourselves up. And Zim, don't think you're getting out of here that easily! I want those weapon's clean enough to eat off of!" 

Zim suppressed a groan. Now it was his turn to send a look of envy towards the retreating backs of his classmates. Skoodge gives him a pitying look. 

Voel and Theron are the last ones out the door. 

"I can't believe you did that!" Voel hisses.

"Shouldn't have let your guard down."

Their bickering causes a wave of nostalgia. 

He slaps his cheeks.

_No, Zim. Bad Zim._

Instructor Voot gives him a strange look. 

Zim ducks his head in embarrassment, quickly getting back to work on cleaning.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_(Sergeant Voot POV)_

Voot was please. 

This class was turning out to be his most promising yet. His students were perfect blends of toughness and intelligence. He looked to the pouting Irken cleaning a spear. 

The smaller Irken had been enraptured by the duel from earlier. There had definitely been a spark in those magenta eyes. Voot was sure the other had figured out Voel's plan early on when none of his other classmates had.

Zim typically avoided competing in battles. Usually finding ways to be disqualified or simply gave up. It had left the sergeant with endless feelings of frustration. 

Voot feels like he's being denied something. He's reminded once again of never having gotten to see his believed Tallest in battle. 

They were kind of similar now that he thought of it. If the eyes...and maybe a few cycles added....

**No.**

No, it was best not to even get his hopes up. 

It was impossible anyway. 

Tallest Pink's body and consequently his PAK had never been recovered. Just another insult the Noying's had tossed their way.

"Instructor Voot, Sir, I'm finished and ready for inspection." Zim salutes him. 

Voot gives the weapons a once over, pleased with their state. He dismisses the smaller Irken. 

Zim seemed peppier than Voot could ever recall. 

The light he'd seen in those eyes. The excitement radiating off the smaller Irken was undeniable. 

Voot had been doing everything in his power to not push the younger Irken too much. 

He feared another incident. 

However, Zim had shown no signs of distress and had been able to keep up with all the other activities the sergeant had sent his way.

Voot has a sudden thought. 

He had once talked with some of his fellow instructors about organizing cross classroom duels in the past. Perhaps he should see if he could get one of the other classes to battle against his. 

He had one just in mind too!

Another taller class. Yet, rather...pitiful in their academics. Even many of the smaller classes did better and they weren't even focused on combat!

How instructor Bid even kept his position was beyond Voot.

Not to mention, it was insulting to deliberate put one of his students against a weaker opponent.

However, maybe this would be for the best. Zim was a rather petite Irken. Perhaps his classmates were too scary for him. Maybe all Zim lacked was confidence. However, once he won a few fights. Voot was sure, Zim would be more inclined to take part in them.

He tossed the ideas around a few more times, weighing their pros and cons.

While he didn't want another incident. 

The desire to see the quiet Irken let loose was hard to deny. 

Finally, Voot nods to himself.

Yes, this might just work.

\---------------------------  
_(Academy dormitories: Later that night)_

"Are you still Upset?" Theron walks out of the attached cleansing room, dabbing a towel to his wet antenna.

A mumble. The red eyed Irken's face is buried deep within his pillow.

"Voel, come on. You always win, it was one time! Instructor Voot wasn't even grading this one!"

Voel pops up, a furious look on his face.

"That's not the point! The poin-" The red eyed Irken stops, cheeks turning a deep blue. Voel quickly buries his face back into his pillow.

"What's the point then?" 

More mumbling. 

"Voel?" 

The other doesn't answer him.

Theron huffs and walks over to the other's bed. Plopping down on it with more force than necessary.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Go away" He barely hears the small mumble.

"Voel come on! Voel! Hey Voel! Voel!" Theron shakes the other. Getting off the bed just in time to dodge an elbow aimed at his face.

"Zim was there! He was watching! You made me look like a fool."

"Zim? Zim's seen you fight before." Theron feigned ignorance.

_So that was it. Why did everything always have to go back to Zim? Were they tied together by some invisible string?_

"It was different this time! He was watching, actually watching ME! I was his focus!"

"yeah okay or maybe he was just focused on Skoodge. You thought about that?"

"Don't."

"I'm just saying tha-"

"Zim's way too pretty for him!"

They stare at each other.

"You're an idiot."

"So are you!" Voel growls, chucking his pillow at Theron.

"This is mine now." To prove his point, Theron throws it onto his bed and lays on it. Followed by him, sticking his tongue out at the glaring Irken across the room.

"Why are you even suggesting something like that?" Voel asks.

"Suggesting what? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie. You hate Skoodge. I don't know how many times I've had to keep you from pummeling the shorty for being so close to Zim."

"I've come to realize it's silly to hate Skoodge."

Voel narrowed his eyes at the other.

"You've been acting strange."

"S-Strange, strange how? I'm not strange, you're the strange one!" Theron spouted. 

"So...You just don't hate Skoodge anymore...Why?"

No reason...

No reason? So what, you don't care who flirts with him!"

"I'm not interested in Zim anymore! I don't care what Zim does or...who he is with....even if it's...ugh...Skoodge." Theron winced, as if the words caused him physical pain. 

"Theron, you're a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying!"

"Well then explain why you've still been looking at him, huh? You kept getting distracted last week cause you thought Zim wasn't weari- "

"Stop!! It wasn't like that." A large blush takes over the purple eyed Irken.

"Oh really?~" Voel smirks at his partner. Theron throws the other's pillow back at him. Voel dodges it with a laugh.

"It's not what you think! Even if it was, any Irken would get distracted by that! It was just...you know." Theron's voice trailed off.

"Oh, I don't know. Explain it to me.~" Voel's grin stretches wider.

"Shut up! Anyway I'm giving up."

Voel suddenly looks serious. "Liar." He hisses, red eyes sharp.

"I am." Theron replies. Fixing his own pillow in order to avoid eye contact.

"Is it because of what happen with Zim's PAK?"

"No! Irk no! I wouldn't blame anyone for that!" Theron looks at him in horror.

"Why then? Now that I think about. You've been acting weird since then. Did something happen?" Voel waits for an answer. Theron's gone back to fixing his pillows.

"Theron, what happened?" Voel's becoming impatient and maybe a little worried. "Theron?"

"Nothing happened! I just realized I don't love Zim anymore. Voel you should just give up too."

Voel jumps from his bed, furious.

"What? So that's what's this is about! Another one of your ploys to get Zim to yourself! That's dirty Theron, even for you."

'That not how it is! I'm only trying to look out for you!"

"I don't believe you. You really expect me to believe something like that. You've liked Zim since you first saw him. Yesterday you could barely talk to him with tripping over you're words. Now, I'm supposed to believe that suddenly the very next day you just don't!?"

**"Yes!"**

"I wasn't born yesterday, Theron!"

"You'll only get hurt! We all will." A tinge of desperation in Theron's voice. "Dammit Voel, just listen to me for one second!"

"We're done talking. You'll have to try harder. I'm not falling for your tricks Theron!" The slam of the cleansing room door, followed by the sounds of the shower being turned on.

"Idiot." Theron falls face first into his pillow with a groan. "If only you knew..." 

He hugs the pillow to him.

"It's not like I want to give up either." 

He rolls over, slinging an arm over his eyes. 

_It'll be better this way...for everyone..._

A sigh leaves him. 

"Zim you won't have to suffer this time." Theron promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference of partner(s) is purely a platonic one. Irken are paired up into groups of two for dorm rooms/assignments.
> 
> Onions have layers.
> 
> More mystery around Almighty Tallest Pink. What's really going on?
> 
> Theron, would you like to tell the class what you know?


	7. Attempts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim attempts to find out some information and comes across someone new. Voel attempts to speak with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This will make some uncomfortable. Implied/attempted teacher/student relationship.
> 
> Notes:  
> Changed title to infinite Pink in order to further separate it from other infinite AUs.  
> Also if anyone notices changes to the previous chapters. No, you're not going crazy. I'm just in a constant process of updating/editing preexisting chapters. Either to fix plot holes, tie them together better or simply to fix spelling errors.  
> I would recommend giving them another read. I've added a few foreshadowing elements and extra tidbits to some.

_(Academy Dormitories: Skoodge and Zim's Dorm)_

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Yes"

"The hall of history though? I've never even heard about that pla-" 

"Come on Skoodge, we're going to miss it if we wait any longer!" One of Skoodge's friends, Tenn yelled from the doorway. Zim could see her practically bouncing in anticipation. The arena had captured a digestor and today the arena was going to see what the beast could do.

"Zim, it's leisure day. We only get one a month and you're going to spend it studying? Are you su-"

"Digestor!" Tenn yells in excitement.

The maroon eyed Irken could clearly be seen battling himself.

"You don't want to miss it. Go on" Zim waved the other off with a smile.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_(Academy Arena)_

"Where's Zim?" Voel glares. 

"I'm not telling you." Skoodge replies, glaring right back at the taller Irken.

They had been doing this for a few minutes now. Tenn's eye twitched. It was causing her to miss very important parts of the fight!

"Oh, for Irk's sake! Zim said he was going to the Hall of History!"

"Tenn!" Skoodge looks at her in disbelief.

"Where's that?" Voel sighed as all he got was a shrug from the feminine Irken. Who strangely looked a bit like Zim. Weird.

"Why don't you find out for yourself." Skoodge replied haughtily.

_So, he didn't know either._

Voel was tempted to continue the fight, if for no other reason then to wipe that smirk off the shorter Irken. However, he had far more important things to do right now and Zim was rather protective of the robust Irken. 

Although Voel couldn't for the life of him understand why. 

_There was no way, that what Theron suggested was true. Right?_

_Theron's just trying to get under your skin Voel._

Voel turns with a frown. Not before sending the other Irken an obscene gesture. Skoodge attempts to jump from his seat. However, Tenn was quick to pulled him back down.

Skoodge is calmed under Tenn's whispering words. He catches sight of the way the shorter Irken and his companion looked at one another. 

Zim didn't deserved that kind of heartache. It was all the more reason Voel needed to assert himself better. 

_I'm right here! Just for you!_

\-----------------  
_(Academy Grounds)_

The red eyed Irken made his way back to the academy. He had wasted so much time searching for Zim already and then Skoodge, when he couldn't find the magenta eyed Irken.

He tried searching his PAK for information about this Hall of History. Besides a vague description that it was a physical, yet outdated archive of Irk's past. He received little actual info on it. Odd. 

He pressed further for a location. Only learning that it was somewhere on the academy grounds. He huffed. Great, just great.

_If I was a old archive, where would I be?_

He's never hear about this place before. It had to be somewhere others rarely went. Theron might know. While smeetish and lazy, Theron was also incredibly book-smart. Second only to Zim in their class. 

However, Voel was still mad at the other Irken and he was sure if Theron knew what he had planned. The purple eyed Irken would interfere.

"Voel! What are you doing wandering around like a Gasquiggasplorch(2)." Voot shouts. Startling the younger Irken.

Voel straightens his back, saluting the taller Irken. "My apologies Sir, I was just..." Should he ask his instructor about the archive?

"Just what?"

"Looking for the Hall of History, Sir."

"Hall of History?" A far off look takes over the older Irken's face.

"Sir?"

"Didn't take you to be a bookworm. The archive's been abandoned since Tallest Pink's reign." Voot looks solemn. "I'm surprised you smeets even know about it." Voot's blue eyes narrow at the younger Irken. He wasn't going to stop any of his smeets from expanding their knowledge. However, if they were going to use that place to cause mischief or skip classes...

"Tallest Pink?" Voel asked confused. 

Who was that? 

He'd heard enough gushing about previous tallest from Theron alone. He'd even researched some on his own. Although they usually consisted of only Warlords and battle-hardened Tallest. Yet, he can't recall ever hearing that name before. Perhaps it was an ancient Irken. The information of the archive had said it was outdated.

"Almighty Tallest Pink! The Tallest before Tallest Miyuki!" Voot snaps back to reality in disbelief. Did this smeet really not know his basic history!

"I though the Tallest before Miyuki was Tallest Bink?"

"Tallest BINK! BINK!? No! Well, I Mean yes! Tallest Bink was enthroned right after Tallest Pink. However, he had died only a week or two later after over indulging on one too many sweets. Tallest Miyuki was quickly enthroned right after." Voot calmed himself. There was no reason to get worked up. 

Voel nodded. He wasn't about to argue with the older Irken. Even if it didn't make any sense. The ruler before Tallest Bink had been Tallest Junk. Perhaps the older Irken's memory was simply mixing the name up. After-all, Instructor Voot was one of the oldest Irken in the Academy.

However, maybe he should talk with Theron later or better yet....

"Sir, the Hall?"

"What is your business there?" Voot presses.

"Ah...well you see...I actually needed to talk to Zim, Sir. I heard he was studying at the hall. It's super important." Voel says truthfully, hoping the older Irken won't pry much further.

"That one really does remind me of Tallest Pink." Voot whispers forlornly.

Voel's brows furrowed in confusion. "Sir?"

"Oh right! Yes, of course." 

Voel nods as the instructions are relayed to him. 

"Now you better not cause any trouble down there." Voot warns.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sir."

"Good, make sure to keep it that way." Voot gives him one last warning look before returning to his own duties.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_(Hall of History Archives: Located beneath the Academy)_

Zim needed information on his PAK. Maybe if he was lucky, he might even find something on these past memories he'd been having.

All Irken could access the collective through their PAKs. Not that Zim trusted his right now to do so. Hence why he was attempting to locate a physical archive of Irk and her people's pasts. 

The Hall of History. 

However, due to the fact that the historical archive lay in a far off, forgotten corner of the academy grounds. Along with the simplicity and ease that information could be looked up with their PAKs. Not many Irken used it or even knew about it.

Zim much to his confusion, has no trouble locating it. His legs had taken him there without fail. He feels like he's been here before, or rather maybe one of his previous lives had. 

He has had a few more dreams since his time in the infirmary. Although they had all been rather mundane and seemed to hold no real importance. Just little memories of everyday life for the Irken of that time. 

If nothing else, it was fascinating from a historical point. They never discussed anything even remotely closed to this in class. In fact, they barely discussed anything outside of propaganda and the current Tallest's reign. Although that was apparently considered normal.

_Was it? A voice whispers._

His brows furrowed. 

There was that too. He was sure that these previous lives were starting to influence him. Sometimes he wasn't sure were what were actually his thoughts, and what were theirs. Maybe this was all a way for his PAK to get his guard down?

Another thought for another time. He focuses back on the issue at hand.

Zim navigates the twisting hallways and winding stairs with ease. How odd those were! Irk had upgraded to elevators or teleporters to navigate the majority of their buildings and ships. Only a few areas he could think of still had stairs. Much less, ones as old as these. He kicks at a rogue pebble. It drops off the edge and he can hear a distant thump as it lands.

He drags a hand against the wall as he descends. Metal gives way to stone. The archive was perhaps one of the oldest building left standing.

_Older than the control brains._

Huh? He shakes his head. What kind of thought was that. Sure the building was old but that'd be impossible. The control brains had brought Irken into this world, had raised them from the dirt, had-

**No, that wasn't right. It couldn't be right.**

_What about their gods? What about..._

There is a distant sound of chatter.

Zim look around. He is alone. 

It grows louder. An image starts to play in his mind.

Another memory, why now?(1)

_The sounds of laughter from small smeets as they run between older Irken in broad daylight. A game of tag. A smile tugs at his lips._

_The sun is bright despite the chill in the air. He lets out a puff of hot air. Burying his face further into the fur of his coat, hands hide themselves deeper into his muff._

An archaic vehicle passes him.

_It was the newest model._

_He looks up into the sky._

The technology all around Zim is ancient. 

He..This irken of the past, he has to remind himself. Although it really is becoming harder to tell where their thoughts and actions end and his begin. They are much him as he is them. He feels everything they do. The weight of clothing against his skin, the smells and sounds of their surroundings feel entirely too real. It's as if he is truly there. 

Although, he supposes at one point he really had been. Well, at least his PAK had.

_Either way, they are in awe at all the_

Ancient

_newest inventions and dazzling lights of the city he is in. His first trip to the capital. His siblings would be jealous._

_Siblings?_

A billboard draws his attention. The newest communication devices, now in three different colors! 

_There is other advertisements as well. Toys for smeets, Vehicles and other luxury goods he's never seen._

_He walks down a sidewalk. Passing by Irken in odd winter clothing. Many he notes in pairs of two, often accompanied by one or more smeet._

_Families a whisper provides._

How odd.

_He admires the various buildings all around him._

So alike and so very different then the ones that stand today.

_A televised ad, catches his sight. It calling for volunteers to work on a project for commercial spaceships. "Explore the stars! Undiscovered galaxies await! Discover you destiny today!" A peppy spokesman remarks. "Come on dow-_

The memory is fading.

Zim feels a headache coming on. He notices the sound of PAK fans whirling.

"Calm down, Zim. Take a deep breath." He closes his eyes as he leans against the wall. The cold from the stone helps him focus. After a few minutes, he pushes off the wall and continues his way to the archive.

Finally he reaches it. The door takes some effort to get open, he pushes it forward with a grunt. Despite his small size, Zim did have quite a bit of strength.

Standing just inside the doorway to the archive. A frown takes over, he looks around distastefully.

It felt like there hadn't been anyone to use this place in quite awhile. Maybe a cycle...or a dozen. Scratch that, maybe even hundreds. If the many cobwebs and layers of dust were anything to go by. 

He is thankful that there appears to be electricity at least. However, many lights refused to turn on at all. Others flickered, before shortening out as well.

A sigh left him. 

This was fine. He was used to working in conditions with little or no light. 

Irken eyes did have some natural night vision. If they became elites, the would get ocular implants for even better sight.

He stepped further inside. Avoiding a pile of books. 

He dragged a finger over the surface of a nearby table. A thick layer of dust coming off. He coughs, a large grimace took over his face.

He would have to do something about this. How could he be expected to find anything in such a filthy place! He could barely even stand to stay in this place a second more.

Zim left the archive, only to returned awhile later with the necessary cleaning supplies. 

This place was going to look spick and span or so help him.

\----------------------------------------------------  
_(A few hours later)_

Zim tossed the rag he'd been using into a bucket. Rubbing one of his shoulders. A pleased sigh leaving him as he looks at the now clean floor. He had gotten most of the western wing clean and organized. It was the smallest area of the archive, but decidedly the best place to start.

Two piles of books sat off to the corner. One of still legible and sturdy books. The other was of ones destroyed or simply too fragile to be of any use. 

He was however delighted to find a book on native Irken flora. Still in fairly good condition. It looked a bit newer, well newer than the many of the books anyway. Most of them looked like they would turn to dust if you so much as looked at them wrong.

What did Irk look like before? Would it match his memories, those of the forgotten Irken? Most of the planet was urbanized with only small biodomes and areas left untouched. Typically for either food production or sporting areas, like the Kalzinia Valley. 

Zim debates with himself. Should he just call it a day? He had gotten a lot done, but he also hated to leave a job unfinished. Yet, the anticipation was killing him. He couldn't wait to read his new treasure. 

A loud bang, the sound of a door shutting. 

Another memory? He waits, nothing appears. 

Was it his imagination? 

He listens in for anymore noise. Nothing.

He makes his way to the entrance. It had been difficult to open, so he had left it cracked. 

It didn't appear to have been touched.

Maybe it was just his imagination. 

Perhaps it was just his exhaustion getting to him.

He wiped at his forehead. It was probably late, maybe he should head back.

Zim goes to collect his supplies. Maybe he should just leave them here? It might be easier than dragging them up and down those stairs again. Plus it wasn't like anyone would notice them anyway.

He decides to move them over to the eastern wing. Next leisure day or hopefully if he could spare some time, he would tackle it. Making sure to tuck his treasure under his arm. He set the supplies down gently into a corner of the new wing. There is even more piles of books over here. He looks in concern at one stacked nearly twice his height. Zim definitely had his work cut out for him.

He sighs. A problem for the him of tomorrow. He steps precariously around a few more stacks as he makes his way back to the entrance.

**"Bid!~"**

Startled by the sudden yell, he bumped into a large stack of books. Sending them tumbling to the ground with a loud bang. That echoes throughout the archive.

Zim cringed and hurried to pick them up. Who decided to even leave such important documentation piled on the floor anyhow! 

_He doesn't hear footsteps approach._

A voice startles him.

"What are you doing here?"

He looks up to see the face of a taller. A student from one of the classes? No, wait. the other steps further into his line of sight. He looked too old to be his age. 

An instructor? Security?...Janitor?

He swallows.

"C-Cleaning, Sir." Zim kicks himself. There's no reason for him to be nervous. He isn't doing anything wrong. The archive wasn't restricted...he thinks. Void! Zim, why didn't you double check!

"Cleaning? The taller Irken crosses their arms. A look of disbelief on their face.

The movement causes Zim to notice the undressed state of the older Irken. Their clothes are rumpled and he can see too much of the taller Irken's chest. 

How scandalous! 

He looks away.

Perhaps they had taken to sleeping in the archive and Zim had woken him up? Causing their less than modest state. The other probably didn't even realize their state, it was best not to draw attention to it. Zim was far too embarrassed already.

"Yes. There are germs. Filthy, Filthy germs! You would not believe what HORRIABLE creatures they are!" He hissed quietly, more to himself than towards the other Irken.

"Ah, I see..." Bid did not in fact see. He cleared his throat.

"Well, the archive is abandoned. I find it hard to believe that a student would clean an entire library of their own will. Especially on leisure day. Who ordered you to clean it?" Bid's eyes narrowed. He was surprised a student even knew about this place. It wasn't like it was restricted, but even he had stumbled upon it only by accident as a cadet himself. 

Was someone on to him?

"No one, Sir."

"No one? Why are you doing it then? Are you here alone? Where are the others." Bid couldn't help the tinge of mania from entering his voice. 

Zim failed to notice this, caught up in his own paranoia.

"I simply wished to study in peace. My classmates are...rowdy. Yes, rowdy! They make it difficult to study. One's education is important and shouldn't be taken for granted! But, I couldn't be expected to study in such a run down place." 

Zim hoped the simple lie would be believed. After-all, it's not like it was really that much of a lie. He did put a lot of effort into his education and his classmates could be rather obnoxious...and he did hate dirty places. Therefore it wasn't a lie! Just a sorta...half-truth.

"I'm sure that there are other places to study than this kind of place. Defiantly places that would require less energy wasted on cleaning them." This was a trap. Like void, Bid would believe something as ridiculous as that.

Zim could feel panic swelling within him. Ah! What should he say? What could he say? He messed up. What if he was kicked out for something like this! He felt like he was going to cry.

"There is nothing like the feeling of a physical book in your hands, Sir."

A small noise left the older Irken, a laugh? 

It made Zim feel conscientious all of a sudden. He gripped the edge of his apron. He must look ridiculous. Dressed in cleaning gear in the middle of an abandoned archive. He couldn't blame the other Irken for finding his excuses to be unbelievable.

"Your name?"

He hesitates. The older Irken steps forward. He takes a step back.

"Zim, Sir. From Instructor Voot's class." He straighten his back.

Voot that old coot. Bid couldn't stand the older Irken. Voot was nothing but a haughty, burnout waste of space as far as Bid was concerned.

The magenta eyed Irken could see that the older Irken was frowning, but otherwise couldn't tell what he was thinking. 

In an attempt to make himself appear less absurd looking. Zim starts to removes his googles and oversized cleaning gear. Maybe if he looked more presentable, the older Irken would be more inclined to believe him.

The other's eyes snap back to him. 

_Oh!~_

Bid thinks.

A smile suddenly taking over. The older Irken steps further forward. Zim finds his back hitting a bookshelf. The taller Irken places a hand besides Zim's head, boxing him in. Zim is forced to look the other in they eyes to avoid witnessing his immodest state.

Zim suddenly feels on edge but can't place why. Was he going to be punished? He hadn't thought he was breaking any rules. 

"So, Zim was it?"

Zim only nods. He wants to get out here, now. "Am I in trouble?"

The other smiles...smirks? He's suddenly reminded of that Sovoxian Don from Glovox. 

That'd be ridiculous though.

The taller Irken open their mouth to say something.

A stack of books are knocked over somewhere. Followed by a curse from a very familiar voice. The taller Irken suddenly takes a few steps back, frowning.

"I'll be seeing you around then, Zim." He says quietly, shooting a grin at the smaller Irken before quickly disappearing around a bookshelf a few feet down. 

Zim picks up his treasure that had dropped earlier. He rounds a corner closer to the main entrance to see a taller Irken looking at the fallen books in dismay.

"Voel, what are you doing here?" He could almost laughs at the small jump that courses through the red eyed Irken. Feeling some of his anxiety leave his body. He hadn't realized how tense he had been.

"Ah, Zim! Hey, I didn't see you there. Funny meeting you here." Voel awkwardly says, leaning against another pile of books. Nearly sending those tumbling to the ground as well.

Zim's eye twitched. 

Now that his cardiac-spooch was calming down. When had it started to race? 

He starts silently questioning the red eyed Irken.

What in the void was Voel doing here? How did he even find it? Zim had only told Skoodge he'd be going here. 

Although, a small part of him was grateful to the other Irken for getting him out of whatever punishment he was sure that older Irken had been going to inflict.

"Hey, Zim. So...uh..."

Zim moves past the taller Irken. He grips his book tightly. He's anxious to leave this place.

"Wait..Can we ta-"

"We can talk somewhere else. I do not wish to stay here any longer." 

\-------------------------------------------  
(Academy Cafeteria: Outer terrace)

Zim had lead them here. Both because it filled the hunger in his belly and it gave an excuse for him to be distracted by. He rubs a finger over the cover of his treasure.

_What did Voel want?_

"What did you want to talk about?" He moves pieces of food around with a fork on his plate. Avoiding eye contact with the other. He chanced a peak, finding Voel was avoiding looking at him as well. 

The red eyed Irken, rubbed at the back of his neck. "Uh, well you see...I just thought that maybe...I mean...we could...It's just that...I well...I think I lo..." Zim could only stare. Voel's face was almost entirely blue as he continued rambling.

_What was happening?_

"Do you have a fever?" Zim asks. It wasn't like he was concerned or anything. Before he can even stop himself, he reaches over to feel the other's forehead.

Voel goes silent. Face turning an even darker shade of blue.

Zim is actually becoming concerned. "Maybe you should go to the infirmary." He moves to leave the table. Voel springs forward, grabbing a hold o his wrist.

"Wait! Wait, just let me explain." 

Zim nods, Voel still hasn't let go of his wrist. He's doesn't find himself bothered by it. The warmth feels good. It feels normal, like it belongs.

"What I mean to say is...I might..." Voel is nervous again. Zim feels like the other is setting a trap. He tugs at his wrist. Voel lets go of it, only to quickly grab him by his shoulders. 

They're too close for comfort. Voel leans forward. Zim can feel his cardiac-spooch speeding up. 

_This couldn't be happening!_

"I think we should...what i mean is...Let's be friends!" Voel winces internally. That not what he wanted to say...at all. Please Irk, just swallow him whole so he won't further embarrass himself.

"I uh...what?" Zim asks in shock. If this was the game Voel was playing, he was certainly going about it in a very odd way.

"Let's be friends." Voel reaffirms. Maybe this was a good thing. He couldn't expect them to rush head first into something like that. You had to start from somewhere.

"No." Zim says flatly. He's not falling for that again.

"What, why?" Voel realizes he sounds desperate. "I mean. Care to explain why?"

"You don't know me!"

"I want to!" 

Voel needs to know. "Is there someone else?"

"What! No, who would I even be with?" Zim asks incredulously. 

A weight leaves Voel. 

"Is it because I'm not book-smart?"

"Who cares. You look beautiful when you fight!" Zim clamps his mouth shut. 

_AH! What are you saying, Zim! Shut up!_

Voel perks up. Zim thought he was attractive! 

_Then why?_

"Do you hate me?" Voel asks suddenly, he's afraid of the answer.

"No!" The word leaves Zim without hesitation. 

He's not entirely shocked at the revelation. He didn't know what to feel about Voel or Theron. They had been friends. He had looked up to them...had loved them once upon a time. 

The terror he felt when around them. Was the fear of what they would become. The Tallest he had served and the comrades he had fought with, often felt like separate entities. 

More than anything, he feared the prospect of death the most. Unfortunately, Voel and Theron held the most sway over that. His life would be held in their hands. The less he interacted with them, the better chance he had of surviving, is what he had convinced himself.

But what if Voel held a grudge over this? 

_"Remember that time you though you were too good for my friendship Zim! Well take this!" The other would say. Then he'd have his PAK taken again or be thrown out the air lock or..._

Stop it Zim! Don't be ridiculous.

Zim sighs, trying to mentally shake his paranoid thoughts. 

Voel looks at him pitiful. 

"If I said I didn't ever want to be friends with you. What would you do?" Zim asks.

"I'll leave you alone."

He can see Voel debating within himself.

"Promise."

"I..." Voel takes a breath. A look of pain crosses his face. He looks Zim in the eye. "I promise."

Voel is dead serious. Zim sees no lies in those garnet eyes. He looks away. He's not sure how he should feel. 

He might regret this, but for the sake of his survival. This could be his best choice. 

Life was full of risks. He didn't like risks.

He takes a deep breath. 

He really hopes he doesn't regret this. 

"Okay...Let's be friends."

**Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.**

\------------------------------------------------------------------  
_(Academy dormitories: Voel and Theron's dorm)_

Voel buries his face into his pillow with happy glee. While he failed to confess, at least Zim considered him a friend now! Progress! With a little time, he's sure he can capture the other's cardiac-spooch!

Theron looks on in confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bid is not a good Irken.  
> 1) Zim has at least two separate lives besides his own within his PAK. The infirmary one (Which is newer) and this one (which is the oldest of the three). I imagine that the world the oldest one comes from to be a combination of 1920's deco, mixed with a 1950's Fallout universe. Retro and class meet space.  
> 2)As quoted by Zim during the abducted episode: "like the dull-witted Gasquiggasplorch" The race is known for being stupid.  
> Skoodge and Tenn, it's kind of cute.  
> Awkward Voel is my favorite.  
> Even more mystery around Tallest pink!


	8. Roses and Donuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little of this and that. Zim gets some answers, but just as many questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied past abuse, Implied dubious consent/coercion/mind control. Abuse of authority.
> 
> Lot of pov changes.

_(Academy study hall, outer courtyard terrace: Dusk. Zim POV.)_

Magenta eyes stared at the book in their owner's hand.

**A page on Valdarian Roses.**

Native to the Valdarian countryside. They are one of the few plants that grow in the colder climate of the mountains. Including the iconic mount Irkanium.

Zim hummed to himself. 

Mount Irkanium still stood today. However the surrounding area had been turned into an amusement park.

_His cardiac-spooch clenched for some reason._

He skipped ahead.

Cultivated as both an ornamental and landscaping plant. They have received increased popularity after being introduced to the capital court in the era of 96 of our Empress Jos(1) after a visit to the countryside.

_Empress?_

He read on. 

Sweetly scented. Theses flowers are large and showy in various shades of pink. Their magenta colored stems are armed with sharp thorns. While the flower is safe to use in incense and perfume... 

_The smell of the incense from his memory resurfaced._

He turns to the next page to continue.

The Velvet sugarcup is native to the Valdarian co-

**Wait, what?**

His brow scrunched together.

Had he skipped a page? He flipped the page back and forth. It went from the rose to the sugarcup immediately. Was it a misprint?

He inspects the book closer. Running a hand down the inner spine. It looked like a page had been torn out. 

**Why?**

"Reading again?" Voel's voice rang next to his antenna.

_Zim most certainly did not jump._

He watched as Voel climbed over the bench and plopped right down next to him. It was far too close for comfort. Voel's knee was practically touching him!

His eyes narrowed at the barely concealed grin hidden behind the taller's hand. 

_What was he up to now?_

\----------------------------  
_(Voel POV)_

"You've must of read that thing a dozen times." 

_It was weird. Couldn't Zim just get whatever information he wanted from his PAK. Why read a physical book? About plants too? It seemed so unnecessary and boring._

"I'm still only half way through because SOMEBODY keeps interrupting me." Zim glared without any real heat.

"Ah. I guess I'm unwanted here then." An overdramatic sigh left the taller Irken. 

Zim twitched.

"I suppose I'll just have to go and take these donuts with me. I'm sure Theron would love to have them instead." Voel announced with faux sadness. He could see Zim's antenna perk. 

Another large sigh left the taller. "Sugar blast and coco surprise and-" He shook the box of donuts gently. 

Magenta eyes zeroed in on it. 

_Time to up the ante!_

Voel started to get up, his arm was suddenly grabbed. He bit his lip to hid his smile.

"Wait! Wait! Perhaps I was too rude right then!" 

"No, no. I'm obviously getting in the way."

"Zim did not mean it!"

"But, it will take away from you reading! I just couldn't." Voel said dramatically. 

_He was far too used to Theron's melodramatic theatrics._

"Don't go! I want you to stay. My book can wait." Zim set his book to the side and patted the seat next to him with fever.

Voel smiled, plopping the box of donuts into Zim's eager hands.

\---------------  
_(Zim POV)_ _He's been duped..._ **again.**

Sometimes he wondered if Voel remembered their past too. The taller Irken certainly knew what buttons to press. Although he supposed that Voel had always been the more socially Intune of them or maybe he was just that easy to read.

A sigh left him.

...At least the donuts were good.

"-in you." The words barely register.

"What?" He looks over to Voel finishing of the rest of his donut.

"I'm gonna train you." 

_The audacity of this Blasnit._

"I'm not weak." Zim says too quickly. He cringes internally at the bitter tone. 

"T-that...I didn't mean it like that!" Voel insists.

"Then what did you mean?" He tries to keep his voice calm.

"You want to be an elite right! Then you need to improve your physical abilities. Academics alone won't get you into their ranks."

When did he say he wanted to be an elite?

"You are mistaken."

"Mistaken?"

"I don't intend to be an elite." The words feel heavy. Like he's telling a lie.

"You're joking!" Voel grabs his shoulders.

Had Voel always been this touchy? He couldn't remember. 

Only that Voel seemed to deliberate avoid touch him in their past life. 

His cardiac-spooch clenches.

"Then what are you going to do after we graduate?" Voel's hands tighten slightly.

Should he tell him? What if this was Voel's plan all along. Find out what Zim intended to do with his life and then use his future tallest powers to take it away. 

_Oh, Zim you thought you could live a quiet life. Well think again, to fast food with you!_

He shook his head. 

_Stop being foolish!_

"Why?" Voel's voice is so quiet Zim barely hears it. The taller Irken lets go of him. 

He can't help but laments the loss. The heat of Voel's hands stayed on his shoulders.

"Are you going to follow through with engineering then." Voel asks before he can say anything in response.

_He wished he could. By Irk, he wished he could! Engineering, as well as science had been some of his biggest passions. They were in his blood. The feeling of creating something, spawning life from nothing, building weapons and machines no one else had ever seen._

_But, they had also cost him too much. He couldn't make that mistake again. Couldn't give his PAK the opportunity. The only reason he was even in engineering as his main course, was only because the control brains had placed him into it. He couldn't argue against that without good reason. He had tried._

"I don't know."

Garnet eyes bore into him. "Then what do you want to be?"

"Who knows." 

Voel makes a noise.

Zim decided to use Voel's words against him.

"We still have a while until graduation. We can choose another path if we have the necessary aptitude. Besides, Voel. Elites aren't all just about fighting either. You have to have other skills as well. They do have talents outside of being top soldiers." 

"I mean yeah. But-"

"Then you're just going to stay nothing but an engineer then?(2) I thought you wanted to be a pilot?"

_Something flash across the red eyed Irken's face too quick for him to read. Maybe it was his imagination._

The artificial lights of the day cycle were signifying the end of the day. Perhaps it was just a shadow.

Voel speaks up. "Graduation will be here before you know it Zim. You sure you won't regret it?" 

He sighs. "It's not like it's even an option for me. Elites are the best of the best. There's no reason for me to humiliate myself attempting that." 

It had been at one point, but even if he did want to be one now. He's not the same Irken. Besides...

"That's not true! Not an option? Are you ser-"

"Voel. You're forgetting one final, very important thing." He cuts the other off. Why was Voel pushing this? 

The taller Irken looks at him in confusion.

"I'm going to be transferred out soon anyway. It's not like I'm getting any taller." 

Voel is stunned. Then the red eyed Irken's face morphs into something else. 

Anger.

Zim leans back, perhaps he said too much. 

He should leave.

"Would you look at the time. I sho-" He stands up, intent on booking it.

Voel grabs his wrist.

**Oh no!**

_Could he take Voel in a fight? Maybe..._

He frowned. 

_...or maybe not. He'd been skipping out on fighting and training in an effort to avoid hurting others. Zim knew he wasn't as physically strong as his past self had been. He didn't think he would need to be._

_This was a huge mistake._

"Wait. It's just.." A sigh leaves the taller Irken. "I'm not mad. Not at you." The other's grip goes lax. Zim could pull away without a problem if he wanted. 

**He doesn't.**

Zim tilts his head at the other, waiting for an explanation.

The taller's grip starts to slide down his wrist.

Zim sits back down, hands going to his lap.

The red eyed Irken looks like he's struggling with what he wants to say. 

Voel's still hadn't fully let go. Zim barely takes notice of the way his hand fits so neatly into Voel's own palm. Only that it feels right. He's far too focused on what the taller Irken wanted to say to him.

He swears the other turns blue for a second.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to be an elite?" Voel asks after a moment.

_It's his turn to hesitate. Absolutely? Not really. That time, had resulted in some of his fondest memories. Yet, he knows it's for the best for everyone if he doesn't._

He nods. 

The red eyed Irken frowns. "Just..." Voel's fingers twitch, before a defeated sigh leaves him. "Just let me train you then. Please."

His brows scrunch together. 

_Didn't he just say he didn't want to pursue that path._

Voel continues, turning to face him fully. He can see himself reflected in those garnet eyes.

_They're too close!_

"Even if you're not going to be an elite. That doesn't mean you won't come across someone or something intending on hurting you."

He opens his mouth before closing it. 

_That was true. He hadn't actually thought about this. Only ever thinking about how to avoid other fates. He might have been able to hold his own in the past but now..._

"I just don't want you to get hurt." Voel says softly.

_Why is his cardiac-spooch racing?_

"I don't want you to get hu-" 

A large crash, followed by a groan startles both of them. A heap of purple fabric lay a few feet away.

_Had they fallen from the balcony? He wonders._

Theron pops up suddenly, wiping imaginary dust from his clothes. 

Theron suddenly stops to stare at them. "What are you doing?"

They both look down. Zim's eyes widen. 

_When had his hand covered Voel's?(3)_

He quickly snatches it back and hides both behind his back. 

Relationships were taboo, especially sexual. Feelings were often reduced to quick glances and accidental touches. Nothing more.

What if someone misinterpreted what they were doing! 

They had always happened to meet in places without others. He'd let his guard down. Gave in to the false security and familiarity of it. 

To his own buried feelings. 

Void! They were going to be his downfall again! 

What if Theron thought he was defective? 

_He was, but Irk! No one could ever know!_

**He'd been trying so hard!**

What if the taller Irken reported this? His cardiac-spooch is racing for a different reason now.

He wouldn't do that to Voel though, would he? He looked back and forth between Voel and Theron, who were glaring at one another. 

**Oh Irk!**

Without another word, he books it.

\-------------------------------------  
_(Theron's POV)_

"Zim!" Voel calls out at the retreating back. His partner stands up with a sigh. Before turning back around to face Theron. A heated glare burned in those red eyes.

"What are you doing?" Theron reiterates, his eyes never breaking Voel's gaze

"Doing what?"

"Don't play dumb, Voel!" Theron hisses. "I told you to give up. You're going to wind up hurt." Zim is going to get hurt! You idiot!

"We're just friends. Being friends."

"Like void you are! I'm not stupid Voel. That looked way too intimate to be 'friends'." He whispered, afraid of someone hearing him.

"You gonna report it?"

"What! No!" What kind of Irken did Voel take him for.

"Good. Cause it'd be mutual destruction, remember." Voel warns as he walks past him.

"Where are you going?

"I'm tired. Plus it's getting late. If instructor Voot finds us out passed curfew. We'll be in big trouble."

The purple eyed Irken grits his teeth in response. 

_This isn't over._

Theron huffs, he should've known. 

"You always did wear your cardiac-spooch on your sleeve."

_lovesick fool._

A sigh leaves him.

**They both were.**

_"Do you love me?" A finger runs down his cheek tenderly. He has to stop himself from pulling away from it._

_His leg is still healing._

_No._

_"yes" It feel like tar on his tongue._

_"More than_ **that** _one?"_

_He hesitates._ **A vital mistake.**

**Their** _face twists to something dark. His chin is grabbed with more force than necessary. He has to bite his tongue to keep from crying out._

_"Perhaps i've been too lenient on you."_ **They** _hiss._ **They** _turn to another Irken. "You love me, don't you Voel?"_

_"Of course I do! You're the greatest!" Voel remarks too happily for Theron's comfort._

_Sharp eyes turn back to him with a grin, the grip on his chin tightens ever more slightly. "For such an intelligent Irken, you sure to do make a lot of mistakes. Ah, but i do suppose I didn't pick you for your brains afterall."_ **They** _whisper._

_He's terrified._

_By Irk what should he do? What could he even do? He failed to escape. Even succeed now, he'd be hunted and no one would ever believe him! and Zim,_ **Zim would be....**

_"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I do love you more than him! I Promise!"_

**They** _let go of chin. He clenches the fabric of his pants to keep from rubbing it._

_"Good, now I would suggest you behave yourself Theron. You know I get so terribly jealous. Another one of those slip up and I just...well...I just don't know what I'll do."_

_Theron shivers from the warning_

_A message pops up. Altering them all to something important. He couldn't have been more thankful._

**They** _sigh "And we were just getting started." Sharp eyes flicker over to him once more._

_"Voel, do make sure Theron behaves himself. We don't want another..._ **accident** _."_

_The door shuts, leaving the two alone._

_He shakes as he looks to Voel, who stares back with dull eyes._

_That could be him..._

_It was_ **going** _to be him._

**DING!**

The bell to the academy chimes, breaking through his haze. It signaled curfew going into effect. He shakes off the horrible memory.

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

You're safe Theron.

That won't happen again. Never again!

**Another ding.**

Purple eyes open.

He needs to get back to his dorm before Instructor Voot catches him.

Something pink catches his eye as he turns to leave.

He grabs it from the ground. It must have been knocked there when Zim had taken off.

Theron hadn't meant to frighten the smaller Irken.

He turned it over, the thing was old and worn, but there was fancy Irken script written on the cover.

"A book?" Now that was unexpected. 

Zim's? 

Voel would never read something like this. 

"A beginner's guide to botany and horticulture: Irk edition, Vol. 2." 

Huh.

Zim was into this? 

_He never knew._

Theron clench the book tightly.

This wasn't the past anymore. 

_...Maybe...he should start looking forward._

**Perhaps he should take a page from Voel's book.**

\-----------------  
_(Zim pov)_

Quickly making his way back to the dorms. Zim ignored everything around him, even Skoodge's greeting as he entered their room. 

Locking the door to the cleansing room. He collapsed against it, sliding down until he reached the ground.

A knock from the otherside. He could hear Skoodge's voice. "Zim, are you okay?" 

"I-I'm fine. J-Just filthy." 

Skoodge knew his festering grudge with filth. Shuffling from the other side grew distant. 

Deep breaths. He needs to calm down. 

The cold from the shower is horrible. He can't be bothered to care, it helps him think. He needs to focus.

What was he going to do? 

Don't think about it Zim! You're just overthinking this. Tomorrow he'll just have to go find Theron and explain it to the taller Irken. 

It was all just a misunderstanding. 

A trick of the light.

_Oh, what if Theron didn't believe him?_

**What if all his hard work amounted to nothing again!**

His head thumps against the tile.

\----------  


_(Archive ZIM)_

_A violent cough wracks a lithe frame. He quickly covers his mouth with his hand. Something slick come out._

_A little longer. His fist clenches before wiping it on his apron. Just a little longer, he keeps repeating to himself._

_Another screw is tightened, a few more tubes connected._

_They said it couldn't be done. He would show them._

_Nothing was impossible!_

_This would be his magnum opus. The first of its kind._

_The download was complete. It had taken a while to figure out how to transfer his brain waves, but he'd done it and soon...Irk would never be the same!_

_He hadn't come all the way to the Capital from the countryside for nothing. His name would be in the history books!_

_Another cough wracks his frame, its progressing faster. How many have fallen victim to it?_

_Soon they won't have to worry about it. It will be a thing of the past._

_Just a little longer, please._

_He puts a metal face plate in place. Just a few more finishing touches._

_It was complete. A small laugh of triumph leaves him. Finally!_

_The proud smile of a parental-unit shines brightly on his face as he takes a second to look over his invention._

_This was it._

_All his hard work amounted to this. It was all going to pay off._

_There was only one thing left to do._

_He takes a deep breath. His lungs itch, another cough threatens to appear._

_Just a single flick of a switch is all it takes._

_A small crackle of energy brings the invention to life. The whirling of fans turn into a quiet buzz. Lights flicker on in quick succession, until they all unanimously glow. The machine raises itself into the air by the dozens of tubes and wires attached to it._

_"WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?" A mechanical voice asks._

\----------  


A loud knock startles him, Zim snaps back to reality. 

His skin is pale from the freezing water. A large shiver over takes him. How long has he been in here?

There is rapid knocking on the door.

"Yes?" He calls out.

"Zim! You're okay? You've been in there awhile?" Skoodge worriedly asks.

"I'm fine. I was...I was just very filthy. It required extra cleaning." He turns the water off.

That memory won't leave him. 

_It couldn't have been._

Yet, his memories had never been wrong.

Another shiver goes through him. He's not sure if it's merely from the cold. 

It was impossible, that machine.

It had looked like...

**...a control brain.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Some mysteries solved, but how many remain?
> 
> B-Biological  
> R-record and  
> A-artificial  
> I-Intelligence  
> N-Networking  
> S-System
> 
> Control Brains have but one purpose. 
> 
> For Glory of Irk by Coraline_Call has a pretty neat take on evil control brains.
> 
> Again Zim has at least two different past lives in addition to his own. To separate them I will be nicknaming them :  
> Infirmary- The one that appeared during Zim's recovery after his PAK incident and may or may not have something to do with a certain tallest or two.  
> Archive- The oldest of the three. Originally from a certain countryside. They came to the Capital to realize their dream.  
> A not so secret: These nicknames do hold a certain significance to the role they have play in their own times.)
> 
> 1) A nod to Empress Joséphine of France (Wife to Emperor Napoleon I, yes that Bonaparte.) She was a huge patroness of roses. Who was said to have grown about 250 varieties of roses at the Château de Malmaison.
> 
> 2) Every Irken is placed into a main course (Think of it like your major in college). It will be their career path unless they show significant skills in another category as well. Such as Zim with science or Voel with Piloting.  
> Being an elite is a category all on its own but requires a lot of talent and skill level to get into. Elites have to be the best of the best for a reason.
> 
> I've seen a lot of fic make Voel into a pilot. Which is likely inspired by his actions in "Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars" Season 2 episode 1: 21st episode overall.  
> Voel as an engineer was inspired by a post on tumblr by depressed-zimothy: "Tallest Red created Gir out of trash in like 3 minutes and made him functional and sentient." Patchworkpoltergeist had this to add: "Made a working SIR Unit from garbage and pocket change and ran a manual diagnostic by himself on the biggest ship in the armada. The man knows his way around machines."  
> Just thought that was pretty neat. 
> 
> 3)While touching is not illegal it is highly discouraged.  
> Romantic relationships are unnecessary in the Empire. Becoming sexual is an offense that would label one a deviant at best (resulting in ostracization) and defective at worst. Likely resulting in those Irken's death.
> 
> Also the next chapter will be intensely dark and deal with some very heavy issues. Including and implied non-con/dub-con. Bid will be involved. (Don't worry, Zim won't actually be hurt. However, it will make many uncomfortable/triggering.)  
> I felt it was best to get the warning out now. There will be additional warnings/explanations in that chapter as well.  
> I will be trying to contain that arc into one chapter, incase anyone should wish to skip it.


	9. Selfish Arc part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past, present and future. A look into Zim and Theron's past. Someone doesn't have the best intentions for Zim.  
> WARNING: This arc will deal with potentially triggering/uncomfortable topics. Please read with caution!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER AND WARNING: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!   
> ====================================
> 
> 1.) There will be things that will be covered, that could be highly uncomfortable or triggering to some. This fic is intended for a mature audience and will be covering some traumatic topics. The events in this story are entirely fictional and merely done for dramatic effect. However, they are not intended to poke fun or downplay the real-life seriousness of these issues. 
> 
> 2.) It will contain references and implied teacher/student relations and references and implied sexual and physical abuse/assault. Dubious consent. Abuse of power/coercion. Murder/attempted murder.
> 
> If you or anyone you know is suffering from any kind of abuse or struggling with recovery, please do not be afraid to get help. There is more options than you may think.
> 
> Contact your local authority or nearest shelter.  
> Here are a few sites that may help you to Identify and Report Abuse or discover resources for recovery:   
> thehotline.org, childhelp.org or victimconnect.org  
> National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-8255  
> ====================================  
> Author notes:
> 
> I apologize for the late update and want to again thank everyone who has read this story. You guys are great.
> 
> I had wanted this arc to be condensed into one chapter, so as to be easily skippable. However I felt that there was a lot more I wanted to add to the story, that unfortunately tied closely around this time period/event. As this does play a large role in the story in regards to the Tallest past and a certain character.  
> Initially it resulted in me wanting to have this arc written out in its entirety before i uploaded as a result.  
> Which is why it's taken me a bit longer to upload then usual. I have quite a bit of the rest of the work finished, but I know i'm bound to add more to it. However since it has been so long already, i said screw it and went ahead and posted this part now. 
> 
> Because of that, I put warnings on Bid's sections instead. Incase anyone wishes to skip these parts. Bid was intentionally made to be the slimiest creep. 
> 
> Please be advised.
> 
> Most of all, stay safe.

**==(WARNING ON!)==**

_(Bid's office: Undetermined time. Bid's POV)_

Bid rested his chin on one hand, tapping the desk with the other.

It turns out that Zim **had** only been cleaning the archive of his own volition. Bid had investigated nearly every nook and cranny with a feverish mania after Zim had left. There hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. Not a single camera or recording device. 

It still left him on edge. 

What if he had missed one?

He'd been so paranoid, he hadn't even got to finish the rest of his favorite sweet. 

Someone had entered his secret domain. Bid frowned, he still wasn't too pleased that he might have to abandon his favorite spot. 

It wasn't as if he cared if Zim came to the archive, now that he'd set his sights on the younger Irken. It would definitely make everything a lot easier...but, that other Irken could be trouble. 

Perhaps he **should** plan around that.

It wasn't like it was that unheard of for students to have... _accidents._

Oh, well! He let out a small laugh. It's not like it was his fault, maybe they just needed to be more careful.

He tapped the desk again. A sigh of longing left him.

What a pretty little Irken.

Even in the dark of the archive. Those large magenta eyes had shown brightly, drawing him right in. He'd barely been able to contain himself, still lingering with unspent arousal.

That ridiculous cleaning gear coming off, revealing such an Irken! It had been like a present being unwrapped. Just for him! Zim must have known, maybe that's the real reason the smaller Irken had been down there. Zim had purposely been teasing him, trying to entice him! Bid was sure of it now.

He had been so consumed by thoughts of the other since then. 

What else lay hidden beneath the rest of those clothes? 

His pants suddenly felt too tight for comfort. He'd been holding back from his sweets since then.

He'd been too careful to slip up now. 

Even the control brains hadn't caught onto him. So much time spent subtlety disconnecting the information charge pods(1) on his level. Keeping a careful eye on his selective sweets. Getting rid of any hiccups.

Days passed, then weeks. No one came for him. 

He was being ridiculous! Bid had nothing to fear, but of course, why should he? The laws were stupid anyhow. They were all pent up. How was keeping them strict and stiff helping anyone? Obviously, anyone in his position would do the same. Why should he force himself to hold back? They all wanted this too. Bid was sure of it. They just didn't have the backbone to take it.

His hand traveled down to help alleviate his 'problem'. A moan left him.

 _How sweetly would those magenta eyes look drowned in ecstasy?_ A few strokes.

 _How would Zim's skin feel? Would it be as soft as it looked under his touch?_ His hand moved faster.

 _How would Zim's voice sound, begging him for more?_ He was so close!

_If it hadn't been for that other Irken..._

His eyes narrowed. Mood suddenly ruined. 

He could feel himself deflate, after a moment he tucked himself back into his pants with an angry sigh.

Just another thing that other Irken ruined for him!

Zim still hadn't returned to the archive yet. 

Bid was becoming impatient. 

What of that other Irken? What was their relationship with Zim? What if they already had a taste of what was his? What if they were doing it right now!

One of his hands turned into a fist. He was wasting precious time!

How Zim had flown under his rader was beyond the instructor. It didn't even matter if Zim was apart of another class. He wasn't going to let the smaller Irken out of his sight now.

All it did, was make Zim into a far sweeter, forbidden fruit!

Bid couldn't wait any longer. 

A knock to his office door interrupted his thoughts. He quickly made himself presentable.

"Enter."

A young, pretty eyed Irken came into view. 

Just his type.

"What did you find out?"

The smaller Irken shifted in nervousness as they approached him, handing over a tablet. Bid couldn't help but grin.

"He has a very small group of friends. Although they seem to only interact during class or lunch periods. An Irken named Skoodge is the only one he seems to regularly hang out with. Which makes sense since their partners and al-" Bid's unimpressed looked had them quickly continuing their report. "Skoodge is a fairly popular Irken and in the top twenty combatants in the academy."

Skoodge? That name sounded familiar. Voot had probably boasted about the Irken at some point. A frown tugged at his lips. Was this that other Irken in the archive? He was popular? That could pose a problem. He'd think about that later though.

Bid swiped through the tablet as pictures of the robust irken appeared. An unimpressed scoff left him. 

Top twenty combatants? When had the Academies standards gotten so low? 

However, this wasn't the other Irken in the archive. Bid hadn't gotten a good look at them as he watched behind a bookshelf. He only knew that they were a good head or two taller than Zim. This...Skoodge was far too short, only a inch or two taller than Zim.

He made a motion for the younger Irken to continue. 

"Recently however, he had been spending more time with one of his other classmates..." 

Bid supposed an Irken as pretty as Zim would be the center of attention.

However, that just wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all. 

He needed to cut any unnecessary ties that stood between them. Zim would understand. He would make him understand.

"Who else?"

They hesitated for a moment. This didn't go unnoticed by the older Irken.

"Who?" His patience was thin.

"V-Voel, He is the current highes-" 

His fist slammed onto the desk.

Voel! He knew that name. Just another Voot in the making! Voot made it well known his class had the best talents, rubbing it in Bid's face any time he could. 

Where did that old qrooza even get off!

Even though he, Bid had been the top of his own year when he had graduated. He nearly made it into the elites for Irk's sake! Before he was so wrongfully snubbed a better position. Forced to waste away teaching ungrateful smeets. He was too good for this!

_'You need to learn some humility.' 'You're too reckless.' His old commander had said. 'It'll do you some good.' 'You should be honored." His commander had said._

What a load of Srull shit!

If he ever saw them again!

Why did he need to learn such things? Enemies didn't care about humility! So what if he was a little reckless! He always ended up the victor regardless. 

All that mattered in life, was how much stronger you were than those beneath you. Power was everything and **he** deserved it all.

That's why he had contested Voot at one point in the past. Voot was always mocking him. He was sure of it. He'd never been good enough for the older Irken. Not as a cadet and not as a fellow instructor.

He'd show him! The need to wipe that smug grin off the older Irken's face was all too much. There's no reason for him to lose. Bid was younger and obviously a far better fighter than that that decrepit Irken! 

Yet, he'd been humiliated.

Now the old coot had recently been asking him for another rematch. Voot really took him for a fool! 

It not like it was even his fault! His students were just terrible. While the control brains gave him plenty of sweets. The rest were all duds. They weren't worth their weight in snacks!

Why did he have to suffer such mistreatment?

"Anyone else" He growled.

The smaller Irken stuttered. "N-No. Z-Zim is not a very social Irken. In Fact, I haven't seen him with Vo-" Bid's eyes narrowed. "...Uh, um with _that_ Irken for a while now."

Bid let out a small hum. That was good then. His sweet was doing their job well. Maybe he was just worrying over nothing.

"What does he do when not interacting with his...friends?" Bid said, an edge still to his voice. 

"He often spends most of his time studying. Zim is among the top three in educational academics in the entire academy." They continued.

Putting the issue of Voot's prized student aside, Bid focused in on that. 

So, Zim was highly intelligent? It definitely put more legitimacy to the young Irken's story. Yet, it also posed its own problem. It might not be as easy as he thought to engage the younger Irken. Zim might be too smart for his own good.

However, what game was fun without a little challenge?

"He likes to study? Where does he spend most of this time?" Zim hadn't stepped foot back into the archive as far as he knew. There had to be someplace else the smaller Irken went then.

"His room, I think." They wrung their hands. 

"You think..." 

Void! Voot's dorms were both on the other side and on another level of the academy. It would be difficult to explain why he was wandering another instructor's dormitories and if Voot caught him...

Bid sighed. He needed to find another way to get to Zim.

"Where does he place on combat abilities?" 

He needed to at least know how to handle the younger Irken. Just incase Zim decided to be...difficult.

"I-I don't know." They stuttered.

"You don't know." Bid's eyes narrowed.

They wrung their hands together again. _Oh, Irk! They were upsetting him. What if he punished them?_

"No one I asked seemed to really know. Zim usually avoids fighting. He was in the infirmary recently. For a long time too, I heard." They rushed out.

Bid tapped his fingers. He'd heard about some student's PAK going haywire a few months back. Had that been Zim?

How could he use this?

"...and Instructor Voot has not allowed him to participate in any fights recently as well." They added nervously.

Bid made noise. That didn't seem like Voot. The older Irken had always been an unmoving hardass. Who's entire philosophy seemed to revolve around a sink or swim mentality. Did the older Irken have a soft spot?

Oh, this could be fun!

An idea suddenly comes to him. 

As it stood, Zim was out of his reach. Yet, Voot himself had given Bid an opportunity. 

What was a tiny loss if he was able to gain something greater?

"Good work my sweet."

They smiled timidly.

Ah, his sweets were so cute! 

...and soon he'd have the sweetest.

"Come here, I think you deserve a reward." Bid smirked. 

He wasn't going to deny himself any longer.

**==(WARNING OFF!)==**

**============================**

_(Planet Irk: First timeline. Capital city: Emperor's palace, Tallest chambers)_

Theron hunched over a tablet on the edge of a bed. Purple eyes narrowed as they scrolled through it. 

"What do you even hope to find?" Voel asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against a column.

"Something, anything! Ugh!" Theron threw the tablet onto the bed out of frustration. Before throwing himself backwards onto it too, arms stretched out. He let out a huff.

Voel walked over to pick it up.

"There is still so much I don't remember!

"I Know." Voel agreed, scrolling through the device. There was patchs he could recall, then blank spaces in between, far too many, it felt like.

He could understand Theron's frustration.

"The control Brains don't know anything either!"

"You actually asked the control Brains!?" Voel pauses his search in shock. 

Was Theron insane! What if the control brains thought they were defective?

Yet, they were still here... _then maybe..._

"Did they say anything?" 

"No!" Theron scowled. "They said they had no record of ever tampering with any of our memories."

Red eyes narrowed.

Theron made a mocking mechanical voice. "It would be highly illogical, for us to reset the rulers of Irk." 

"Reset?" Voel's brow scrunched.

"Yeah. I guess..uh..previous memories could be moved to a 'storage', allowing new memories to be made. While the old ones could be kept safe and sound within the core(2)."

Voel nodded, he knew about the importance of their cores. If their organic bodies were merely transportation for a PAK, then the PAK was equally the same for their cores.

Many believed it to be the center of their software. As a PAK's hardware could be replaced, as long as the core remained intact. Others thought it was the true cardiac-spooch of the Irken, the entirety of everything they were. Their soul as some liked to say.

"It's supposed to prevent this exact kind of thing from happening. Vengeful Irken's and corruption and all that, ya know. Unless the core was destroyed, everything would always remain. Apparently it had been some sort of fail safe by the creator."

"Wait, what? Creator?" Voel shook his head in disbelief. "The PAK had a creator? Like, an Irken creator? An actual fleshy Irken? I just thought the control brains had made our PAKs."

Theron waved a hand lazily, he didn't know anything more. The control brains hadn't elaborated. Quickly moving on to a new topic. He'd been too preoccupied with his quest for memories to pay attention to it at the time.

Voel rubbed his chin in thought, other arm crossed below it, still holding the tablet. "Did they say anything else?" 

"They just said it would be illegal for anyone other than them to do so." Theron frowned.

Voel frowned as well.

"But, they did say, that our memories had been tampered with....heh" The purple eyed Irken let out an un-amused laugh. "However, since we know that the perpetrator is already dead..." Theron spit out the last part.

"I see..." Voel sighed, tossing the tablet back down. "...so does that mean they knew this entire time?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Theron said softly. "They seemed just as confused as I was about our memory loss. Well, as much as a machine can sound confused." Theron's brow scrunch together. 

_The Brains had scanned his PAK, searching for these missing memories. A jolt of electric shock had ran through him._

_It had hurt._

_It had been terrifying._

_It had felt...violating._

_Had they really put Zim through something like this?_

_Those bulbous lights of the machines had seemed to glow brighter with each passing second._

_One minute had passed, then another._

_What were they seeing?_

_Suddenly he was hoisted higher in the air. A part of him had thought, that this was it! He was going to go out the same way as Zim had._

_He'd messed up! He shouldn't have asked them!_

_"EXPLAIN."_

_Eventually, they had let him go. Thank the old gods for his silver tongue!_

"Isn't there a way to have them just...get our memories back? Like, they still exist, they're just buried, right?"

"I asked that." Theron threw a arm over his eyes.

A minute of silence stretched between them.

"Well?" Voel asked after a moment, a note of annoyance in his tone.

Theron moved to sit up, leaning back on his elbows. "They said..." Another huff. "They said if they reprogrammed us, it might be too much for our PAK's to handle. There was a chance it could work. However, the sudden influx could also just overload the PAK. At best, drive us insane or worse, just kill us. It's happened before. It sounded graphic." Theron shivered from the brains retelling.

"Void." Voel plopped down next to the purple eyed Irken.

Theron nodded, an ever deepening frown taking over his face. "We either have to let the memories return naturally...or we could-" 

Theron went silent.

"Could what?" Voel asked confused.

"A solution." Theron got up, ignoring Voel's questioning stare. 

"A solution? Theron, what's the solution?" Voel watched his fellow Tallest rummage through a wardrobe. Eventually pulling out a ball of purple fabric.

Voel's head tilting to the side uin confusion. He'd seen Theron bring that back onto the massive after a trip to Judgementia, robes oddly torned. He'd still been too upset to ask about it at the time.

Theron walked back over, slowly unraveling the cloth. A small tremor in his hand as he did so. 

Red eyes widened in realization.

"Theron...What in the void. Where did you get that!?" Voel jumped from the bed, attempting to snatch the PAK from the other. Theron quickly moved it out of the other's reach.

 **"Theron."** Voel's voice was hard.

"We had spent the most time with him, if what our memories suggest is true. It might jog the rest of them. His data was removed from the collective, but the memory core remains."

"Are you insane? 40 Schmillion errors Theron! Even the control Brains had barely been able to handle it! Why would they even let you have it in the first place?" Voel questioned.

Purple refused to meet red. Theron scratched his cheek.

"They didn't, did they."

"It was just sitting there! They weren't doing anything with it. It was probably just going to be tossed into the trash anyhow."

"You stole it! Theron have you lost your mind!" Voel yelled, taking a step towards his partner who backed away. 

"I-I didn't steal it, I just...borrowed it! Besides, we don't have to hook it up to us! We can hook it up to the screen." Theron pointed to a television on the far wall. "It's not like we're trying to reprogram it or anything. We're just looking. It should be fine."

Voel's antenna pressed down in aprehension. Red eyes flicked between the screen, PAK, and Theron's own nervous face. "This is a bad idea."

"If anything goes wrong, we can just disconnect it. The palace is on it's own grid. It'll be fine!" Theron nervously reassured.

A few minutes passed.

There was so much he didn't know. This could be the answer to everything, but was the risk worth taking?

"Fine." Voel finally said, letting out a breath of uneasiness. This was a REALLY bad idea.

Theron's antenna perked and quickly got to setting it up.

"No more secrets."

\-----------------------------

_(Academy Grounds: A few days later from the confrontation in the terrace.)_

Magenta eyes peaked around a corner.

It appeared the coast was clear.

He had so much on his mind lately, that newest memory kept replaying.

What did he even do with this information? 

Would anyone even believe him? Even, if they did. The control brains probably wouldn't want it to be spread. 

It would throw the Empire into chaos. Everything they knew would be turned upside down.

He, **Zim** had created the control brains! _...Well, one of them anyway._

Perhaps it had been a prototype? He wondered if it still existed somewhere.

Why had he created a control brain in the first place? 

Zim recalls how weak his body had felt in that memory. Even the action of lifting his arms, had seemed far too much at times. The neverending itch in his lungs and burning of his throat. As yet another bodily cough had shaken his frame. 

It had felt just like his trial all over. **He had been dying.** Yet, he hadn't stopped, he had kept moving forward regardless of how much it wore on him. Zim can still taste blood on his tongue.

Why had he gone to such lengths? 

The quiet whirl of fans reaches him. He peaked over his shoulder at his PAK. Were they related? It couldn't be...could it?

A dark cloud suddenly overtakes him.

What had been the purpose he had given to that brain? Had he made them to control the Empire? Then why not make himself it's ruler? Had he been betrayed?

**Again.**

Did all the control brains know that he was their creator? _Their parental-unit?_

Did they know that, when they had killed him?

What had he done to them to deserve that! Was it revenge for the overload days or maybe something in a prior life? All those PAK errors. Were those the control Brains doing? Had they knowing let him suffer all those cycles? 

Too many questions and not enough answers!

Maybe his silent suffering had been their retaliation or maybe, they just didn't care at all. He supposed they were nothing but machines at the end of the day.

He grips the corner of the wall tightly.

That couldn't be true though! Even his base's computer had seemed to have it's own personality. It couldn't have been just wires and circuits! And Gir! His poor, sweet, slightly insane Gir. His pseudo-smeet was far more than just nuts and bolts!

There had to be more to it...there just had to be.

A sad noise leaves him. 

Should he really be surprised though? How many of inventions and creations had turned against him in the past?

Perhaps that was just his fate.

Maybe...He thinks. It _would_ be better if he just kept this to himself. He was sure the control brains must know, but probably assumed his memories were still dormant and thus, wasn't a threat to their authority. He feels, that it would be best to keep it that way then. No need to be called crazy by his fellow Irkens or for his oldest creations, to label him defective in order to silence him.

Even if it made his cardiac-spooch hurt. 

If he created the brains, then wasn't it also his fault they were forced to live in such a strict society. To be labeled a deviant was a high offense. Sometimes, even resulting in a death sentence. 

**Why, oh why did he create such machines!**

It was a miracle he had managed to hide such a thing in the past. 

_Voel had been piloting a ship on another mission at the time._

_Their recon team had been exploring uncharted space for potential expansion, when they had been surprised by pirates. Their small crew had ultimately won, but suffered heavily under the sudden onslaught. Their spacecraft had barely been able to hold together after entering the atmosphere. Resulting in a crash landing on some deserted, primal planet. They could only hope their distress beacon had survived somewhere._

_Bruised and battered but alive. Theron and him had wound up as the only survivors of their crew. A third, Pim he thinks her name was, had survived the crash as well. However she was an Irken with low healing capabilities(3) and had succumbed to her wounds not long after. Despite Theron's desperate attempts to keep her alive._

_He remembers the look of failure in purple eyes. They had both been eternally grateful for having such high regeneration abilities._

_They had made a base out of the remains of their ship. Burying Pim and keeping her PAK tucked safe within it, as they waiting for rescue._

_One cycle had passed, the another and another. No help was coming. They had been abandoned, left to waste away._

_Alone with just the two of them. It had been an especially cold night, the planet was in the midst of its winter. They had sat as close as they dared, around a small fire. A mixture of desperation and curiosity had taken hold._

_No superiors._

_No control Brains._

_No rules._

_Who would even punish them? What consequences did they need to fear? They wouldn't be connecting to any information station anytime soon. There was no one but them. No one to label them deviants or defective._

_All of this had been their silent thoughts._

_To one another, it had merely been an excuse for survival. They couldn't have let one another freeze to death._

_There had been nothing said, no sweet words or confessions._

_Only raw, passionate urges._

_The heat of the other against his own, had been enough for him._

_To their surprise...and horror. A nearby ship had gotten their distress call not long after._

_A promise of mutual destruction had sealed their lips, not even Voel had known._

_Theron and Voel had been selected for Tallest candacy not even half a cycle later. 'Don't worry! We'll be back before you know it. Promise.' The taller Irkens had never looked at him with the same eyes after that._

_He'd been abandoned. The well of shame and paranoia within him had grown even deeper. Always wondering; Would this be the day he was found out? Everytime he connected to the collective, would the control brains discover his indignity at last?_

_The fear he had felt on the day of the trial. Horror at his crimes being played out for everyone to see. Terror at the idea that all of Irk would witness his crime. It had been a secret he was forever grateful, he had taken to the grave._

_He'd made a mistake._

_Let his desperation turn him into a fool._

That was the reason he was hiding behind every corner he could. Ever since Theron had found Voel and him in the terrace.

A part of him knew he was being foolish. They hadn't been doing anything illegal! It had just been friends doing perfectly, normal, totally platonic hand holding!

It wasn't nearly as shameless as Theron and he had once done.

Yet, he hadn't talked to Theron. Too terrified of the prospect. 

What if the taller Irken held this against him? Used it to blackmailed him? 

No. No. He shook his head. 

Theron wasn't that type of Irken.

_Thoughts about his 'mission' to Urth sprung to the forefront of his mind. Tallest Purple had been vindictive or cruel to him nearly every time they interactive._

...or maybe he was.

They weren't bound by the same secretive promise anymore.

Theron wasn't his. Theron didn't know him, he wasn't sure he even knew the taller Irken anymore. _If he ever did in the first place._

Who knows what this...stranger would do.

What if the purple eyed Irken let it slip? 

Even if he managed to talk some sense into the taller Irken. What would happen if someone overheard them? 

Rumors spread fast.

Zim had been avoiding Voel as well. If rumors did get out, it'd be easier to dispel them if they weren't seen together. 

Voel would understand...he hoped.

He thumped his head against the wall. Zim tried to reason to himself. Maybe he was just being foolish for nothing! 

Voel must've already talked to Theron. They were the best of friends, smeetmates! They would one day rule the Empire together, like they had done in the past. 

Surely whatever tension he had seen, had been his ima-

"You're so annoying!"

"So are you!"

Zim ducked further around the corner in order to avoid the spectacle that had appeared down an adjacent corridor.

They had been like this the last few days. It had been getting progressively worse as time went on.

He had tried to ignore it. Surely it was just his mind playing tricks! Overthinking things as usual. This was just a little spat. Friends could have arguments.

Magenta eyes flinched at a crash and the shouts of encouragement from gathering bystanders. 

This was his fault wasn't it? He had gotten in the way of their friendship. Theron probably hated him and was taking it out on Voel.

Irk! What should he do?

"That's enough! Break it up! Break it up!" Instructor Voot's voice boomed. "Voel! Theron! You're both on cleaning duty for the next month!"

Zim stayed rooted to his spot, clenching the edge of his tunic tightly. He chanced a peak around the corner. Catching glimpse of matching bruised faces. A grimace appeared, he ducked back before he could be seen. 

Voel was a vicious fighter, yet Theron didn't hold his punches either.

Eventually, the commotion grew distant. 

His squeedlyspooch twisted uncomfortably. 

He didn't like seeing them fight. Not now, not then, not ever. It just wasn't right.

"Are you Zim?"

He was grateful he managed to hide his shock.

Magenta eyes turned to a meek looking Irken about his height with bright ruby eyes. How long had they been there?

Zim had memorized all the names of his classmates. He had thought they deserved that much respect from him at the very least. However, he can't recall this Irken's name. Were they from another class? What could they want with him?

His fingers twisted his tunic tighter in terror.

_Was it about Voel and him? Had Theron told!_

He lets go his tunic, smoothing it out before putting his hands behind him to hide his tremor.

"I am." He says with as much confidence as he can muster. Face not portraying the storm of emotions underneath.

If they brought up his supposed relationship, he would just play dumb. They couldn't prove anything! Just a bunch of hearsay!

"Hi! I'm Rig! Umm...I was wondering..."

His eyes narrowed.

_Here it was!_

**Deny! Deny! Deny!**

Rig must have seen his scepticism. The red eyed Irken immediately rushed out his request.

"I-It's just that I heard you're the best in the academy! I am not very good with tests. I was...just hoping you would be willing to teach me. But...if you don't want to...I understand." A sad sigh left Rig.

The other Irken looked pitiful. Voice growing softer with each word. It tugged at Zim's cardiac-spooch strings.

So that's what this was about. Rig just needed help...

A weight started to lift from his shoulders.

...and he had came to Zim! 

He'd be lying if he said it didn't stroke his dead ego a little.

"You need a mentor?" He asked.

It was like a lightswitch. "Oh! You'll do it! That's fantastic!" Rig said excitedly. Getting a little too close for his personal comfort.

Zim was in too much of shock to properly rebuff the happy Irken. 

Although he supposed it did give him a proper excuse to avoid those two now.

=======================  
 _(Planet Irk: First timeline. Capital city: Emperor's palace, Tallest chambers)_

Theron ducked behind a sofa. "You're overreacting!"

"I'll show you overreacting you little blasnit! Smeet of a glazzo! Qrooza!"

Theron poked up. "Wow, that's harsh Voel, even for you. I'm hurt." He said with a nervous smile, trying to diffuse the situation. "What if the servants here you? What kind of example are you sho-Argh!" The purple tallest quickly ducked back down to avoid a laser shot.

=======================  
(Academy dormatries: Voel and Theron's Dorm, Theron's POV)

He poked at a particularly nasty bruise. "Stupid Voel!" Theron hissed over the sound of water. At Least it was already starting to heal.

"That idiot just won't listen to reason." He whispered to himself, shutting the sink off. Theron huffed as he stepped out of the cleansing room. Purple eyes scanned their dorm. 

Voel hadn't returned yet. Probably at one of the training room, blowing off steam.

Another huff left him. They were on cleaning duty for the next month. He hated cleaning!

He didn't want to deal with this. If Voel would just listen to him for one second! "Ugh!" His hands turned to claws.

Constant fighting day in, day out. He knew Voel was stubborn, but this younger one made him want to rip his antenna out. 

Why couldn't Voel just understand! Theron wanted to move forward too, but they had to be careful. One wrong move and they'd just wind up back on the same track as before. He refused to let that happen again. 

This chance was worth too much to get ruined by recklessness. 

They were getting closer to danger with every cycle. Graduation was so close. It wouldn't be long after that...they would meet **them** for the first time. Theron couldn't let any of them go through that again. He might even need to do the unthinkable...

His partner was becoming far too transparent with his feelings.

What if the control brains noticed? 

What if someone else had been the ones to catch Voel and Zim that day?

If **they** figured it out again- No! He didn't even want to think of that. 

Both of them had been so careful in the past to keep it hidden. He had thought they had been anyway. Until Theron had slipped up, letting his selfish desires take over.

At Least Zim was doing a good job at keeping his distance. Although he wasn't sure if he should be greatful or not.

It made his squeedlyspooch twist.

Theron had glimpsed the smaller Irken peeking around corners. Always being the first to rush out of whatever room they walked into. Magenta eyes once again filling with panic when they met. Whatever trust Voel had built up was now ruined for both of them. 

They were right back to square one.

Zim was afraid of him, that much was obvious.

It hurt.

Voel wasn't pleased about it either. Furthering the divide between them. The red eyed Irken's resolve only seemed to grow stronger.

A small part of him was jealous. Voel could always hold his head up so high, unlike him. Theron could never say what was lay within his cardiac-spooch. 

Just like he couldn't in the past.

Voel on the other hand was so unafraid. Quick to rush into whatever danger lay ahead without hesitation. 

Maybe that's why Zim liked Voel more than him. But, Theron had always been selfish. Waiting until the time was right, for him to make a move. 

He'd been among the cosmos once. 

If only he had said something then. Would it have made a difference? What would Voel have done?

If hadn't been for **them**...if they could've stayed right where they were at...maybe Zim could have been...

He sighed.

It doesn't matter anymore. He has a goal, he intends to see through. Even **they** won't be able to stand above him.

Voel and him had been the tallest rulers in nearly 10,000 cycles. He would change the rules this time.

He could've changed the rules. 

If **they** hadn't messed with-

Theron took a deep breath to calm himself. 

His body suddenly felt heavy.

The weight of exhaustion was finally catching up to him. Constant paranoia and fighting was doing a number on him.

He hadn't been eating like normal either. It was taking a toll. A nap sounded good right about now. 

He scrubbed at one eye.

Why couldn't things just go back to normal?

He just wanted to be friends with Voel again...and Zim too.

A yawn threatened to leave him.

Sure it was a bit early, but class was over and most were enjoying leisure activities right now. It would be the perfect time to enjoy the peace. Before Voel came back and they invetably got into another fight.

He flopped onto his bed without care. Hissing in pain as something poked him sharply in the side side.

Theron shifted enough to pull it out. "Oh right." He flipped the book over.

He hadn't yet returned Zim's book.

A finger ran over the lettering of the book.

He'd read it cover to back. It was pretty boring, but it interested Zim. He had thought he had known everything about the magenta eyed Irken. 

Maybe he didn't know anything about Zim at all. 

The differences had been jarring when he had come to. It still felt unbelievable. Anyday here, he would wake up. Back on the massive. Back before he'd been...

He rubbed at his eye from phantom pain.  
\---------

_As a future medic, he had been able to go to the med-ward for training. Only patients were allowed to enter. All other access had been limited or outright denied. It was like it was on lock-down. Not that it was his business. He was still learning the ropes. Maybe this was just normal procedure._

_There was only one thing he wanted to really know anyway._

_Theron didn't know why he cared so much. Sure Zim was probably the prettiest Irken he'd ever seen, with deep magenta eyes that looked light pink when the light hit them just right and an infectious laugh and-_

_He leaned over an Irken trying to focus on the task at hand._

_It was just the nature of Zim's injury. That's why he was worried. It was normal for a future medic to care. It's not that he was worried if Zim had di-_

_Don't think about it Theron. Focus!_

_"Now Theron, to perform a dressing, clean the wound with the Ns-3400 and gauze, apply the med-gel 9000 and secu- Yes, just like that. You're getting the hang of it already!” Mill congratulated._

_"Does this mean I can leave now?" A smaller irken asked. Inspecting their new bandages on their forearm._

_"Make sure to check out with Kit at the front desk."_

_The smaller Irken nodded as they jumped down from the examination chair and skipped away._

_Theron watched them go before he turned to the head medic. "Medic Mill-"_

_"Just Mill is fine." Theron bit his tongue, there was no way he could call a superior by just their name!_

_He needed to know._

_"Umm...Zim...is he okay?" Nobody had heard anything since that day._

_Mill's smile twitched._

_His antenna flattened. "So it's true-"_

_"No! No." A heavy sigh left her as a pained expression appeared. "Zim is...alive."_

_"He is! Then can I see him! We're..uh...classmates." He quickly added._

_Mill held up her hands. "It would be best if you didn't. Zim is in a...delicate condition right now. For his recovery its best if he isn't overwhelmed."_

_"Delicate? His PAK, how bad was it?" Irken's that had been disconnected with their PAK for more then ten minutes would die. Zim's had not only come off, but had severely injured him as well._

_"You needn't worry! The control Brains themselves have called a PAK technician from the Capital." Mill tried to comfort._

_He blinked at the explanation. The control Brains were helping! "Then Zim will be fine. Do you know wh-"_

_"MILL! Were going to need your help here!" Gig ran into the training room. A few distant screams could be heard._

_"What happened?"_

_"Smeets and mines." Was Gig's only explanation._

_Theron followed after the two veteran medics towards the entrance of the reception room. A group of smallers awaited them. All in various states of disaster._

_Kit was already dressing the wounds of some. Gig quickly joining in._

_"Is there anything i can do to help?" Theron asked, standing awkwardly to the side. He grimaced as Sig, another of Mill's medics reattached an arm of one of the worst off smeets._

_"I appreciate it, but we should have it handled. Go back to the training room for now dear. We'll continue in a moment." Mill replied, attention already turning to her newest patients._

_It was going to be a long day._

_Theron headed back into the med-ward towards the training room. When an idea hit him._

_He looked back in the direction of the reception room. The sounds were distant. Mill and the others would be occupied for awhile._

_It wouldn't hurt to take a peak. Just enough to calm his aching cardiac-spooch._

_Finding the room had been a bit difficult. It had been all the way in the back of the ward. One last look around to make sure he was alone. He slipped into the room without a second thought._

_A single patient room. It was far too dark and quiet. Only the small blinking and dull whirl of machinery filled the room. A pink glow, brightened and dull slowly behind a curtain._

_He stepped carefully into the room further. Catching what sounded like breathing. A low and slow, slight raspy noise. As if they were struggling to breath. It made his antenna stand straight up._

_A bed lay against the center of one wall. Wires and small tubes coming out from underneath a curtain that surrounded it._

_He gulped. Why are you hesitating? Just go for it, Theron!_

_He'd been unprepared for what lay behind the curtain._

_Wires and tubing everywhere. He could just barely make out Zim's form underneath it all. Once bright green skin was almost completely grey. Dark circles and slightly gaunt face. Zim's breath was ragged, as if he'd stop any second._

_He looked like when Voel and him had sentenced him to death._

_Wait, what? When had he sent-_

_"Ah!" He clutched his head in pain, dropping to his knees._

_The influx of memories from his past life had quickly overwhelmed him._

_Wide eyed and gasping for breath. He rested his forehead against the cool tile of the floor as everything eventually returned to focus._

_Theron got to his feet with a blank look, walking up to Zim's bedside._

_A surge of anger overtaking him briefly. He grabbed at the cord to life support._

_Zim! Greatest defective of the Empire. Murder! Killer of tallest! One of his best friends. His first lo_ **...Stop!**

_what are you doing!_

_Theron covered his face with his hands in horror. What was he doing? What in the void was he doing!?_

_He stepped back from the bed, his legs starting to feel weak._

_Zim, the one he'd fallen for twice. The one he had been forced to forget. Zim wasn't at fault. No, no! It had been..._

_Chaos vs order, loud vs quiet, willful vs docile. This wasn't even the same Zim as his past. Zim hadn't done anything wrong._

_What was wrong with him? Theron felt sick with himself._

_The curtain was pulled back into place. Mill's kind face appeared before him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him from the room._

_"This is what I didn't want you to see..."_   
\-------

He'd thought Zim was holding back at first. That the other had known about their shared past as well. 

However, with each passing day. He wasn't so sure. They were strangers and it seemed Zim wanted to keep it that way.

Perhaps, this was just how Zim was always meant to be. It was odd to think about.

He missed Zim's energy.

Theron wanted to bring it up. A part of him had to know. To know that he wasn't the only one. That he wasn't crazy.

Most of all, that he had a chance to make amends. 

What if the spell was broken though? He didn't want Zim to hurt anyone.

What if everything just went back to before? He didn't want to hurt Zim either.

The way those magenta eyes looked at him with fear. 

Did Zim really hate him so much in this time? Maybe Zim really did remember their past and still held a grudge? 

If he was someone else would Zim like him better? 

Sometimes he didn't even feel like himself. He wasn't sure if he even knew who he was anymore. 

Theron, the medical elite? The one so deeply in love.

Theron, the Almighty Tallest Purple? The one so numb to the world.

Theron, the smeet starting out in life? The one so new and wide eyed to the possibilities.

Who was even in control anymore?

It was like a never ending tug of war. Sometimes he felt a thousand different ways about something or someone. His reaction that day after the influx, still haunted him. Tallest Purple had never been known for his kindness. It sent shivers up his spine. While a different part of him felt he had been justified. How cruel of an Irken he had been turned into.

Maybe, an entirely new Theron had been born that day. A combination of all that that he had ever been. He's knows his paranoia for one had been amplified

A sigh left him. He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he let himself sink further into the bedding.

Stop thinking about it, Theron! This won't solve any of your problems! 

The past is the past.

The arm over his eyes drops to his side.

Purple eyes look with determination up at the ceiling as a thought comes to him.

He wanted to move forward. By the gods in all of the cosmos did he want it.

Purple eyes flicker back to the book by his side.

If Zim wasn't going to come to him. He'd go to Zim.

\-------------------------------  
 _(Academy- Science classroom: Undetermined time)_

Zim leaned back in his chair. Letting out a small sigh as he moved away from the microscope. He scrubbed at his eyes. Thankful, that no one else was able to see his frustration.

Instructor Piek had been all too happy to let him use the room after hours.

'I'm so glad you're thinking of being a scientist Zim! We need more bright minds like you.' Zim still blushes at the compliment.

Despite his determines not to go down this road again, that didn't mean he'd given up on finding a way to deal with his PAK. It just so happened that his best solution at the moment involved science.

There was only so much coding fixes he could do, being so limited on time. 

It still wasn't nearly enough. 40 schmillion errors was not smeets play.

Although, he'd be lying if he said a part of him wasn't overjoyed to be behind a microscope again. Just a teeny tiny part though, he tried to convince himself.

Don't let yourself slip up now, Zim!

His oldest memories had shown a time before Irken's had needed a PAK. 

That sickness, whatever it was, did it play a role? If he could find a way to combat it, maybe he wouldn't need to worry about fixing his PAK at all.

Sure being PAK-less would be difficult to adjust to, but he thinks he can manage. 

He looked over a tablet he'd been putting his findings. Some observation and records of previous medics or scientist. Who had tried their own hands at discovering a cure. However, those records were often brief and lacked the information he wanted. Often consisting of theories more than actual research.

Perhaps the archive may hold what he was looking for. However, he hadn't had the time to go down. Between classes, coding fixes and his new prodigy. He hadn't had much time to himself.

Although he had a mighty need to go down there again! It was calling him! 

A small beep from a nearby machine. A few more of his samples were ready.

Later then, he supposed.

There was still so much he had to do. 

He was close, he could smell it!

\-----------------  
 _(Planet Irk: First timeline. Docking station for The Massive)_

Theron looked over the crew of The Massive from their private deck. He pulled at the collar of his robes, it was so uncomfortable! Who decided to make the official robes so constrictive anyway? He could barely move, let alone breath in them. If it wasn't for their hover-belts, he'd never be able to move.

He looked over to Voel, who has his arms folded behind his back. Red eyes observing the loading of The Massive for its next voyage with sharp eyes. He could see the tension in the other's jaw. 

"You still mad?" He whisper asks.

"Don't talk to me."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Red eyes snap over to him. Voel's antenna folded flat in anger. "You-"

"My Tallest?" Rarl Kove interrupts from the doorway. "The Massive is ready to board at your leisure."

"Oh right! Of course, we'll be down there shortly. Thank you Rarl." Theron says quickly. They needed to maintain a united front.

Rarl's antenna perked. The adviser wasn't sure what had gotten into his Tallest, especially Tallest Purple. Who was...how should Rarl say this...not very nice. Perhaps it was treason to think, but Rarl much preferred his liege like this. 

The advisor leaves the room with a small bounce in his step. A purple eye twitched. Their workers had been acting so weird lately.

"We'll talk about this later." Voel hisses as he passes his partner.  
\-----------------  
 _(Academy dormitories: hallway outside Zim's dorm. Weeks later, evening)_

Purple eyes peaked around a corner. They narrowed at that unfamiliar Irken from another class. 

They had been glued to Zim's side for weeks now. Supposedly they were taking extra lesson from Zim.

Rig, he had learned their name was. 

Why did it have to be Zim? Couldn't Rig have chosen someone else. Yeah, Zim was in the top for academics. But, Theron definitely felt that there was more to it.

Rig's behavior was odd. No one save Voel and himself seemed to notice it. As soon as Zim left his dorm in the morning, there was Rig. As soon as Zim left a class, there was Rig. Even as Zim returned to his dorm in the evening, there was Rig. Just like now. 

He frowned.

Where did the Irken even find the time? Were they skipping class? It was probably the reason they had such poor test scores. Should he report it?

It's not that he was jealous or anything. 

They were just mentor and student. Friends most likely. It's not as if Rig had feelings for Zim, right? Ah! Who was he kidding? It was so obvious.

His frown deepened. _Go away!_

Rig continued talking to Zim. Asking him the most useless or oddest questions. 

How did Zim do this? How did Zim do that? What kind of sweets did Zim like? 

What did Zim think of instructor Bid?

_huh?_

DING!

The first bell signaling curfew cut Rig off. 

They would have about thirty minutes until they needed to be back in their dorms. 

Between classes, then punishment, arguments with Voel and Zim's own avoidance. He hadn't had a chance to talk to the smaller Irken. He was grateful his punishment was nearing an end at least.

He was glad Voel was occupied right now. He might try to interfere with Theron's plans otherwise. He needed to talk to Zim alone.

The red eyed Irken was in the self training rooms, blowing off steam again. Despite the bad blood between them right now. Voel hadn't hesitated to rant about Rig to Theron for hours. He hadn't minded. It was nice to have Voel talking to him again. Getting his opinion, even if it was just about how to get the other Irken away from Zim. 

It was better than them fighting. He missed having his friend. Progress was progress. Smeet steps, he told himself. 

Theron figured it would be easiest to catch Zim right before curfew would go into effect. Even if they could only talk for a few minutes. 

Still, Theron didn't have much time. Skoodge would surely be back soon. He didn't feel like explaining himself to the more robust Irken. It would still be a few minutes for Skoodge to get back here. He needed to be quick. Then he'd need to rush back to his room before Voot caught him. The last thing he wanted wanted was to draw more of instructor's ire.

No more running. He tucked the book further into his side.

Once Rig is out of sight, he makes his move.

He slipped in the dorm without issue. His eyes scanned the dark of room for Zim. A light tucked into a corner draws his attention. He makes his way over to it. Various shades of pinks, purples and reds sat within a glass box. Plants? They looked like some of the ones in the book.

Where had Zim found those?

His brow scrunched.

The low sound of a sink running, finally reaches him. 

Nervousness started to set in.

Maybe he should leave the book here. It was getting late. He can always talk to Zim another day.

The whoosh of the cleansing room door opens. 

Zim's startled eyes meet his. He can see fear build in those magenta eyes.

Void!! 

Alone in the dark of someone else's room. He probably looked like a creep!

"Wait!" He says as Zim back away from him as he moves forward. 

He quickly held out the book. "I..ah...I meant to return this earlier. It's yours, isn't it?"

Zim hesitantly nodded, but did not reach out to take it. Hands gripped tightly in their owner's clothes.

A sign he knew of Zim's own stress.

His antenna flattened. Zim really did hate him.

Setting the book with slow movements onto what he thought was Zim's desk. He couldn't hide his disgust at the uncleanly state of the other one, Skoodge's without a doubt.

Magenta eyes watching him intently all the while.

"I should leave."

\-----------

_(Zim's pov)_

He thought for a moment. "No." Zim needed to know what the other planned. "Why are you here?"

"I just thought I would return your book." Theron rubbed at the back of his neck. Eyes looking anywhere but at Zim.

Magenta eyes narrowed. His hands clenched his sleeping gown tighter. Those were signs of Theron lying.

"That's all?" Zim questioned. He straightened his back. 

Be confident Zim! This had gone on long enough. 

He wasn't entirely pleased Theron was in his room. Yet, maybe this was for the best. 

No one would hear them here. 

Skoodge was in the study hall with his friends, they usually waited until last minute to return back to the dorms. 

Zim had time.

"Uh...well actually-"

"Whatever you saw in the terrace wasn't what you think!" Zim quickly explained. He didn't want a misunderstanding. Neither was he going to let himself be blackmailed.

"What? That not..."

"I know what you saw was very concerning. What with us holding hands and all...and being alone and...you..you see w-what was actually happening was..." Zim trailed off. 

Oh Irk, how did he explain this! He was just digging a deeper hole for himself at this point.

"You think i'm going to report you?" Theron's face was blank, his voice low.

Zim gulped but otherwise didn't respond.

A small disbelieving laugh left the taller Irken. "You both really think of me so little." 

Theron took a step forward. His back hit the wall.

Purple eyes widen before a hurt expression quickly took over the taller Irken's face.

"I don't want to hurt you." Theron whispered. Taking a few steps back.

"Why are you here then?" He asked again.

"I..." Purple eyes looked conflicted. "Voel likes you..."

Both are shocked by the statement.

"Wh- I mean...it's just." Theron tried to explain. "I like you too."

"W-What?" This was some kind of trick right? Anger starts to boil within him.

\---------------

_(Theron Pov)_

What in the void was he saying!

Magenta eyes are wide as they look at him.

"I just want what you two have." He can't stop! He's sure his face must be entirely blue from blushing so hard.

Theron! You're making a fool of yourself. Stop!

 **"You're lying."** Zim's low voice says.

"I'm not! It's true, for the longest time I ha-"

"You're lying!" Zim says louder. A look of anger taking over the smaller Irken's face.

Theron comes to the sudden realization. 

**He's messed up.**

What did he do now?

"Zim..."

"Do you think this is a game! Is that what you're doing? Both of you...You're both in on it aren't you! You're trying to make a fool out of ZIM!" The magenta Irken had taken a more aggressive stance. Hands balled into tight fists. Eyes blazing a bright pink with fury.

"No! That not how it is!" His defense falls on deaf ears.

"You're lying! Liar!" The other's rage was too much, he had to defend himself as Zim rushed at him. 

Theron knew despite the other's small stature, how much damage he could inflict. Zim was a deadly fighter.

Yet, Theron held the smaller Irken's sharp claws away from his face with little effort as they struggled.

The shorter Irken's wrists felt so small. Had Zim always been this frail? Or maybe his training was actually paying off! He thinks happily on that last bit.

His smile is misinterpreted by the smaller Irken. Magenta eyes flashing.

"I won't let you use me again!"

He grunted at a harsh kick to his shin, letting go of the other as he faltered from it. Before he could regain his balance, Zim had tackled him. 

Thankfully his back had found the softness of a bed.

They wrestled further on it. Zim wouldn't listen to reason. Only calling Theron a liar and a host of other things that made him blush from the root of his antenna.

Finally he was able to flipped them for the last time, managing to pin the other down. At least Zim hadn't started using his PAK, he's not sure he'd survive that. 

Zim continued to buckle beneath him.

"Let me go!"

"Just, just let me explain!" He said desperately. A bead of sweat running down his face.

_Why won't anyone just listen to him!_

Magenta eyes narrowed.

"Ugh!" He grunted as the other's only loose leg, kneed him in the side. Luckily the odd angle didn't loosen his grip, but void! 

Zim may have not been as strong as he remembered, but the other wasn't as frail as he looked either. 

That still hurt!

"By the gods, Zim! Would you just listen to me for one second!" He throws his other leg over Zim's, pinning all of the smaller Irken.

Eventually Zim stopped struggling. Sounds of both their heavy breathing filled the room.

"L-Let me go." Magenta eyes were wet. 

Purple eyes suddenly widened as they realized their position.

Theron immediately released the other's hands, moving off of the smaller Irken to give him some space. 

Zim moved up to the head of the bed, curling into himself. Magenta eyes never moving from his form. Zim rubbed at his wrists.

Void, didn't that make him feel like a blisnit

"I'm sorry." Was the quiet apology. Zim twitched.

Void! He really...really messed up now.

"I'm not lying." Zim opened his mouth, most likely to call him a foul name yet again. "I'm not, really!" 

Was it such a hard thing for Zim to believe? Yes, their society looked down on relationships. Yes, it was risky, but Theron was willing to take that chance. Wanted to take the chance, that he had denied himself, so long ago. Would things have turned out differently?

Afterall, Zim and him had once...

Consequences to the void! Soon he'd be the one in charge, he could make the rules! 

If he could just take out **that** Irken first...

Yet, the smaller Irken seemed to respond to Voel's advances well. It was just Theron then, that Zim just didn't like. That seemed to be the ever growing case. They didn't know each other here. Zim wasn't his. They were strangers. He'd thought they had something in the past. Maybe the only reason why, was because Zim had been broken. 

That was the only way he'd ever give Theron a chance.

The thought makes his cardiac-spooch clench painfully.

A deep breath left the magenta eyed Irken. Drawing Theron's attention back to the other.

"How do I know what you're saying is true? How do i know you're not just trying to get me labeled a deviant, or even a defective!" Zim hissed.

"You're not defective! I wouldn't do anything to get you sentenced a-!" 

Theron quickly bit his tongue. 

Wide magenta eyes met his. "Ther-"

The whoosh of a door. Both heads snapped to it.

"Uhhh?" Skoodge said as he entered the room. They could hear the ding of the curfew bell behind him.

Theron wasted no time in tactifully retreating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Information dock/charging station: The control Brains do not actually know what happens 24/7 for every Irken. 
> 
> -Thus they use these pods, under the guise of software updates/charging station for PAKs to tell them of any important information. They mostly rely on Irken's themselves to keep one another in line. 
> 
> Core/Memory Core: The heart/soul of an Irken, buried deep within a PAK. No one is entirely sure what it is, beyond that it is essential for   
> Irken's to live and PAKs to function. 
> 
> -Paks after death are often collected and reset/reprogrammed for the next iteration. Destroying the core is considered the ultimate death sentence.  
> -Tampering with another's core is the highest offense, resulting in death of both biological Irken and their core and complete wipe of their legacy from the collective.   
> -Damage to the core may result in insanity.
> 
> Healing/regeneration: An Irken's ability to bounce back from dire wounds varies between each Irken. 
> 
> -(Uncommon/Rare)  
> They heal incredibly fast from bruises and minor wounds. Sometimes within a day. Some are capable of attaching or regrowing limbs and organs (Not including brain or heart). So long as it wasn't a lethal kill or extreme damage. They may regain complete control of these limbs/organs without any scaring. However they may sometimes suffer nerve damage if the wound was extensive enough. Removing their Pak, or destroying their heart or brain is usually the best way to take them out. They can often be found in combatant roles to make the best use of their abilities.
> 
> -(Bulk of the species)  
> Other Irken may likewise do all of the above, to various lesser extents. They are a bit more susceptible to damage. The same wound may kill them, but the above may walk away from it. For bruises or minor wounds, it may take only a few (1-3) day(s) to heal. They scar, but typically only when they receive extensive damage. It is rare for them to lose a limb completely, but not entirely unheard of.
> 
> -(Uncommon/Rare)  
> The ones with the least amount of this ability, are most similar to humans. For bruises and minor wounds it can take anywhere between days to weeks to heal. If they lose a limb or organ, that's about it. They scar way easier than the rest of their species. They are typically delegated to non-combatant roles due to this fragility.


End file.
